


In the Lair of the Dragon

by Snowden



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Loss of Virginity, Seduction, Sex, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowden/pseuds/Snowden
Summary: Calem has a crush, and a dilemma- he loves Serena, but is cowed by his own virgin status and fears his love's expectations. Little does he know that a certain Elite Four member has set her sights on him.  He is summoned to the chambers of Drasna the Dragon Master, within which he may find answers to his romantic issues... and also, perhaps, something far more salacious.





	1. In The Eyes of a Predator

"Well I never expected anyone to topple the Grand Duchess from her throne, much less a pair of children!"

"Well I suppose for an old bat like yourself seventeen would be considered a child."

"Oh come now Sir Siebold, you're not asking for a savaging by my Noivern are you?"

"Hardly."

"The crone and the coon are fighting again."

"Keep it polite this time, you two."

The members of Kalos' Elite Four lay sprawled about their private lounge, commiserating their most recent defeat. Alcohol flowed freely, mainly whiskey for Wikstrom. The knight was guzzling through his fourth glass, and looked ready to down as many more. Siebold turned his nose up at the stuff, preferring '94 Du Jacque merlot. The women were content with sipping martinis. The general gloom permeating the room was not as severe as it could have been. Misery loves company, and the four were glad to see that Her Highness had fallen to the same young brats as themselves.

"Delphox, huh?" Malva, ever the analyst of the bunch, traced a finger over the television screen. A telecast of the climactic battle had been playing on loop for the past hour. The woman carefully followed the movements of the Delphox, dissecting its attacks down to the tiniest detail. "What an amateur. Completely untrained," she remarked in distaste. "Excelling on raw talent alone. I can't believe I lost to this creature."

By "creature" she was, in fact, referring to the young lady standing beyond Delphox and directing it to battle.

"Say what you want about her personality, but admit she is talented for her age. She defeated all of us, after all," Wikstrom said.

"I think she was rather charming," Siebold said. "She understood the essence of a Pokémon Battle. Malva, you can stare at that television all you like, you won't find any answers in that battle. The young miss adhered to no doctrine, no recipe to restrict her Pokémons' creativity. She allowed her Pokémon to express themselves freely in their assault. That was their advantage."

"Poetic way of saying she couldn't bother training her monsters and let them run wild instead. You talk like you want to sleep with the girl."

"Ho! Crass! That's rich, coming from you!" Siebold countered.

"I'm not the child molester," Malva rebuffed. The eyes of the feuding adults turned to the lady in the corner.

"What are you suggesting?" the accused asked innocently.

"I have your battles on video. Eighteen minutes for the girl, thirty-nine with the boy. That's a long battle for a team that wasn't particularly stall-based."

Drasna let loose the slightest of grins.

"You have caught me. The young man was quite personable, and I must admit, cute. Do you blame me for a mere opinion?"

Malva snorted. Siebold turned up his nose.

Wikstrom said aloud what the two would not:

"As if you would contain your desires to mere observation. Deviant lech."

Drasna wagged her nose cutely. Her fanged earrings jiggled in the process.

"I'm afraid she's found a new victim."

"Alas."

"Drasna, just promise us you won't rape him," Malva implored, somewhat sarcastically.

"Oh, I'll be sure to obtain his consent- at some point in the process," Drasna answered.


	2. The Youth's Dilemma

He had that air of _romance_ about him, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. Something about the uniform, or the curtain of dark hair, or the gallant smile, or the regal pose he held while battling- it spoke of _adventure_. The lad was a product of another era; he belonged on a zeppelin pushing deep into the blank spaces of the map.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he asked aloud.

What shyness he displayed could be attributed to youth. Surely there was a dashing gentleman waiting for the turn of years to emerge from within. The lady twirled her bone-bound bracelet in anticipation. She would enjoy unearthing the Man from the mire of Boyhood.

"I received a letter, but I'm not exactly sure if I'm supposed to be here. It said the matter was urgent?"

"Come in. Have a seat!"

Calem heard the woman's voice and took a tepid step inside the threshold.

Each member of the Elite Four was given free reign over their battling space. A suite of rooms, a prodigious budget, and a small army of laborers was put at their disposal in order to create whatever environment fit their whimsy. For the Dragon type specialist, nothing but the most imposing and dire lair would suffice. It was a cavern of pillars carved from gargantuan bone, crimson drapes veiling innumerable darkened alcoves, scattered lamps of burning incense from which lofted sickly purple wafts of smoke, and above all a sentinel of skeletal claw and wing and maw.

Calem was no more comfortable with the space than when he had first entered and fought here. Haunted shacks in the middle of a bog were one thing (a silly thing at that), this locale was entirely different: it was ominous, and spoke not only of fear, but of _power_. He kept a wary eye to the shadowed nooks as he made his way deeper within to the arena floor.

"Madam Drasna?"

"Here, here."

A dining table had been set by the arena sideline, presumably so that elite spectators could enjoy a meal and a Pokémon match simultaneously. The table's contents were sparse, only light refreshments.

Calem saw that his summoner awaited behind one of the high-backed seats. She held it out for him and invited him to take a seat.

"I'm sorry? I thought there was an emergency?" Calem asked, confused.

"Did I leave that impression in my message? I'm terribly sorry! It's so difficult getting across one's feelings with this modern technology. While the subject matter I would like to discuss is serious, it is not pressing."

Calem awkwardly took the proffered seat. Polite and formal as he was, he managed to scoot in and take a good sitting posture. Drasna grinned, walking back around the table.

"Do you prefer tea, or coffee?"

"Water," Calem replied. With the grace of a first-class hostess Drasna poured out a silvery liquid into the glass. Calem immediately drank a copious amount. ' _He must be nervous_ ', she thought.

"I would like to congratulate you on your victory over the Elite Four."

"Thank you- it was fun, even if it didn't work out like I planned."

"Yes, that is unfortunate. Such is the nature of competition."

"Is there any reason the League is set up like that?" Calem asked.

"Tradition. There may only ever be one Champion, and so there may only ever be one Challenger. It is a homage to the Creator and the Rebellious One. In that the universe is divided by the clash of Heaven and Hell, and all must become subservient to their dichotomy, so too must the conflict of our sport be reduced to the one who stands above all, and the one who rises to challenge them."

"I don't get it, but it sounds deep," Calem said, and then sighed in regret.

"Are you upset that your companion was the one to battle the Champion?"

"Um, no. That's not it," Calem shook his head.

"Oh? Do you mind explaining?" Drasna took her seat and held her chin in her hands.

"Well, it's more I'm disappointed in myself. I didn't give my best effort there. I could have tried harder."

"Oh. There's always regrets and second-guessing in losses."

"This was different. I…" and the boy lilted into silence.

"Go on."

"I don't know if it's right to talk about it. I mean, this is just chit-chat, and you wanted to talk about something important, I think."

"My dear boy, this is exactly what I called you here for."

Calem cocked his head, baffled. Drasna enjoyed the expression on his face, and the way his long hair hung free in the process of his tilt. It was cute, in a boyish way.

"Are you aware that all battles within the League are recorded?" Drasna asked.

"No."

"They are. So you should be aware that I was able to witness your battle with your companion. And, forgive me if I may be overreaching here, it appeared to me that you were going easy on her."

"Well, I… uh… um…"

Calem jerked around like a Froakie caught with its hands in the candy jar.

"I would hate to think you disrespected your Pokémon and all their effort by purposefully failing them on the field of battle. In the most important battle of their careers, no less. Yet, it very much looked to me that you fought with less skill and tenacity than when you fought against me and my comrades."

Calem continued to have trouble stringing together coherent words, much less a convincing counter-argument. He grasped the armrests of the chair tightly and squeezed himself into the backrest as hard as possible.

"Relax! Take another drink."

The boy followed Drasna's advice.

"There are so many reasonable excuses for why you would slack off in such an important match, but if I may, I'd like to cut through all the probable and try for the preposterous: that you did not want to defeat the young lady, for personal- perhaps even emotional- dare I say _romantic_ \- reasons?"

Drasna's words hung in the air like a saber dangling from a single thread of Spinarak silk.

Calem was at the point of gagging now.

"Drink," the woman insisted. Calem took the glass and chugged it nearly empty.

"It's a wonderfully _romantic_ notion. I mean that in the many senses of the word. So long ago it was not merely an adjective denoting affection, but an ideal heralding the spontaneous, the chivalrous, and the heroic. To sacrifice all for one's dearest. Truly touching."

"I didn't mean to do it. It just sort of developed in the middle of the fight," Calem explained.

"I understand, I understand."

Drasna got up to refill Calem's glass. The dry-mouthed young man gladly took it and emptied a third of the contents.

"I mean, she's really worked hard for her goal. Look how it turned out, she beat the Champion, so in the end she showed she deserved it. That was her dream all along. I'm glad she got to make it a reality."

"Oh come now, is that all? You let her pass because you appreciated her dream of being the best trainer in the land?"

"I don't think I could have done the same."

"You lost confidence in yourself," Drasna suggested.

"Yeah," Calem meekly admitted.

"Confidence that you could excel in the arena of Pokémon battle."

"Um, sure. I mean, Greninja is a good shot, but he can't carry the entire team on his own, and my other Pokémon don't have the experience to measure up to a team like the Champion's."

Drasna shook her head in disappointment.

"Now you are side-stepping the issue."

"I, what?"

"Let me be crystal clear, then. You were afraid you couldn't be a man deserving of your companion's affection, and so you gave up. That is what I think. It's less respectable than having the strength to fight evenly and choosing not to in deference to one you admire, because the basic motivation is doubt, not love."

"Hey wait a minute, that's not fair! I'm not saying I'm not good enough to win here!" Calem exclaimed.

"You just said as much."

"No I- well maybe, but I didn't mean it that way!"

"Then in what way did you mean it?"

"It's different with her. To me, Serena is… special." Calem averted his eyes.

"So you do have feelings for her."

Calem's silence was an undeniable confirmation.

"Do you think she will return your feelings?"

"I don't know," Calem said.

"Is there a particular reason for you to doubt it?"

"Because, um, I'm not good enough for her."

Drasna switched her seat, from the one at the far end of the table to one close beside Calem's. She leaned over, closing the space between them.

"Young man, Calem dear, I am a discerning woman, and discreet, and understanding. You may talk freely before me, and no one will judge you. Not I, and no one that I tell, because I will tell no one. So please trust me, and let me hear your fears."

Calem slumped in resignation. His hands were shaking, and his eyes had difficulty focusing.

"I've known Serena for a couple years now. Of course she's beautiful, that's like a prerequisite for a crush, right? But she's so much more. Smart. Driven. Funny. Vivacious. Considerate. She can sing too, she's God's own choir. You see how she treats her Delphox so tenderly, and there's not a man alive who wouldn't trade places with the creature. I love her."

"And?"

Calem took another sip, clearing his throat.

"And she's too perfect for a tramp like me."

"What makes you say that? You are as fine a young man as I have ever seen."

"Because," and Calem clammed up again.

"Hmm?"

Drasna waited and received no verbal answer, only funny faces. She feigned losing interest and began to draw away, when Calem sputtered out.

"I'm a virgin."

"Oh. Ah. Ahhhh."

Drasna hid her mirth. The truth she had suspected all along was confirmed by the boy's confession.

"Oh! Damn it!"

Calem cursed at himself for divulging such a fact.

"There there. That's nothing to be ashamed of. We were all virgins at some point. It's not a status that lasts forever."

"But, I don't know anything! How am I supposed to get her to like me, if I can't even treat her properly? What if she expects everything to go perfectly? What if I screw up?" Calem was growing wild. His voice was rising to a squeak. "I feel like a boy, not a man! She wants a manly man, a gentleman! Someone with suave, and machismo, and charisma, and confidence! A guy who knows what he's doing!"

Drasna stood by placidly. When Calem finished his tirade he also finished the second glass of liquid in one long swill.

"I… I… I don't feel so good."

"Be still, young squire. I understand your plight."

"Huh?"

Calem's bodily motions had become noticeably unbalanced.

"There was a practice, in very old days, to teach men the proper etiquette in deflowering their young wives. An elder wise-woman provided the lessons, discretely. I like to think of myself as practicing a… let's say modern incarnation of that profession." Drasna reached over and held the slumping youth up.

"What did you do to me?"

"Don't worry. I will take care of you."

"You dwugged me."

"It's really nothing. One of the weakest and most widely abused drugs known to humanity: C2H6O. Commonly known as "alcohol". You are young, and do not seem to have much tolerance for the spirits, fortunately for me. Not to worry, not to worry. Let's get you to my private quarters. Noivern, please come out and help move the boy."

The wyvern-esque Dragon emerged and flapped in place above Calem. The boy's eyes went wide, terror welling up and overflowing within them. The creature's claws wrapped around his torso and bore him aloft.

Drasna followed, taking a swill from the pitcher of liquor-laced water as she went. A droplet of the poison escaped and stood poised on the edge of her lip. A tongue slithered out, licked the droplet up, and then retreated into a wickedly grinning mouth.


	3. Student and Teacher

The private suite was outfitted the same as the arena, decorated with the trappings of dragon bones and medieval witch-haunts. Skulls of ancient Pokémon hung from chains. The furniture appeared old, crooked, and constructed of gnarled wood, the king-sized bed included. The surface of the bed was piled with pillows and quilts, enough for Noivern to casually toss Calem's body upon without worry of injury.

Drasna ignored the boy at first and made her way to the dressing room. Her jewelry of fangs came off as she went, deposited on the dressers and tables as she passed. Her gown was being pulled over her head as she vanished through the dressing room door.

Noivern stood guard over the inebriated youth.

"Where're my Pokémon?" he moaned aloud. His arm reached all around, feebly searching for the plastic capsules containing his salvation. It went under his waist, and emerged with one, a simple red and white standard Pokeball. However, before he could unleash the device, Noivern reacted. The creature bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but firm enough to trap Calem's hand and the ball and prevent its deployment. With a strong tug, the Pokeball was ripped from Calem's fist. Noivern screeched out a warning.

"Ah? Oh dear. Young sir, please don't do anything irrational. You have nothing to fear, this is for your own benefit."

Drasna reappeared.

"I got the impression that your companion was interested in fashion. It would be no great leap of imagination to think she would extend her interest into the intimacy of the bedroom. Don't you think? So perhaps she might attire herself in something such as this."

Drasna strutted out to the center of the room, displaying herself for Calem to admire.

She was a buxom woman, no doubt. Yet, her figure was not marred by an excess of fat and flesh in unsightly areas. She was thickest in all the best places, according to those who value the "child-bearing" archetype. Ample hips, thighs, and buttocks, enough for a strong man to grasp and push around as he pleased. Great orbs of supple flesh accounted for her breasts. Musculature and flexibility enough to do what she pleased with her body without physical impediment. Perhaps the one drawback of her age was an imperfect skin, slight wrinkles appearing here and there.

Calem was able to see the exact contours of her body because her outfit barely existed. She wore a nylon one-piece lingerie suit, netted across her body and barely covering the private bits. It reached down around her crotch and up around her neck, with exposure on the sides, most of the back, a cutout for her cleavage and her belly. As if to mock the barren coverage of her torso, her hands and feet were completely encased in opera-length gloves and thigh high stockings, respectively. Her color of choice was a darkened grey, with an overlying mesh pattern.

Her raven hair was let down and worn wild. It fell about her shoulders, rather like lightning in its crooked, chaotic descent. As usual, her drooping eyelids hung so low they could almost be mistaken for being closed. Only by squinting could one discern the ash-grey irises underneath.

"I can't know for sure, but from your entranced stare, I would take it you find me beautiful? Although it's not necessary, it does make my job slightly easier, and of course I am gratified."

Calem couldn't help himself.

He had sworn his devotion to the strawberry blonde lass whom he had journeyed so long and so far with, and yet his natural instincts were leading him astray. The intoxication from the alcohol certainly had no small part in giving power to the little voices of lust within his head. They urged him to continue staring over every inch of this woman's figure, and dared him to hope for more.

Yet, his ego was still strong, and overrode him. He shut his eyes and turned away.

"Oh how adorable. You would shy away from a scantily clad woman, even though it's evident you liked what you saw… you must be telling yourself this is perverted and wrong. You want to refrain from corrupting yourself."

"This _is_ wrong!" Calem moaned. "I swore to myself I would not look at another woman until I knew Serena's answer!"

Drasna strode around the bed. Calem flipped himself over to face the opposite, empty side of the bedroom. Drasna circled around, and again Calem turned away from her, covering his eyes.

"Stop it! I'm saving myself for her! I will not stray, I will not cheat on her unless I know for sure she won't return my feelings!"

"Oh how noble!"

Drasna leaned down to Calem's upturned ear, speaking softly.

"You make these oaths, but how devoted are you to them? How far are you willing to trust blind faith? How sure are you that she will return your affections? Are you truly content to gamble away your chance at her heart, or do you have doubts?"

"I don't want to answer that."

Drasna's gloved hand brushed through the drape of his hair, gliding just on the edge of his jaw line, ever so gently.

"Will you leave your future, your life, up to fate? Or will you attempt to adjust it a little in your favor?"

"I don't know. This feels wrong."

"Don't think about what your conscience tells you. That is an artifact of society's creation. Listen to your feelings, your heart, and your soul. Think of your to-be lover, and imagine what her response will be when you try to make love to her. Ah! Never mind going that far, just imagine what it will be like when you confess to her! How will it turn out, as you are? Will  you bumble around? Shy away? Stutter? Will your doubts and fears come gushing out, and do you think that will endear you to her?"

"No," Calem admitted.

"Or would you like to approach her with confidence, pride, and the surety of experience?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice. But there's no way I can get those things by getting molested by you!"

"I think you misunderstand how this will go."

Drasna signaled for Noivern to open one of the wardrobes lining the wall. The Pokémon obeyed. The standing closet unfolded, revealing a bizarre and frightening collection of sexual paraphernalia. Calem recognized the lash, the ball-gags, the dildos and strap-ons. The other seventy percent of the collection, he hadn't a clue as to their use, and didn't want to find out.

"Normally I limit myself to young men with particular interests, but your gallantry and genuineness have convinced me to make an exception. Noivern. The implements, please."

Noivern flapped over with a select few objects from the wardrobe, returned, and closed the Pandora's box of sadomasochism.

"What did it grab?" Calem asked. He was too frightened to roll over, and therefore couldn't see what Drasna was arranging beside the bed.

"Nothing exotic, I assure you. Little trinkets, balms, that's all. The nature of this lesson will be different from my usual routine."

Calem suddenly felt a heavy weight covering him. His lower back was forced down into the bedding, pinned. Drasna had straddled him as he lay belly-down.

"Get off!" he desperately whispered.

Drasna leaned over him, resting on his back, bringing her lips right up to his ears.

"Don't think of me. Think of Serena."

"Ugh."

"Are you thinking of her?"

After a moment's pause, Calem nodded.

"If I were Serena, in this position and this outfit, how would you react?"

"I… don't know. I wouldn't know what to do."

Drasna lifted herself off the boy. In fact, she walked clear across the room.

"Where are you going?" Calem asked.

"I am Serena, and seeing such a limp, witless male, I have lost interest and am leaving."

Drasna exited the room for good measure.

"Wait!" Calem spoke up.

There was no answer.

"Madam Drasna!"

Calem turned himself around.

"If I… I guess, if I let you do whatever you're going to do here, are you sure that will get me prepared for confessing to Serena?"

"Far more than that. This will enable you to treat her with the upmost care and respect, giving her the pleasure she deserves as the Kalos Champion."

"But you're just going to have your way with me. I don't think that's going to help," Calem argued.

Drasna's voice still called out from out of sight.

"Do you think that alone is not enough? That being able to go through the experience will not at least remove the nerves of treading into the unknown?"

"That might work for me, but what about her? It'll be her first time, no matter what, and she'll be nervous no matter how much experience I have."

"That is a valid point, which is why I insist you are lucky to have met me. I am no ordinary street-lurker, and offer so much more than the mere theft of your virginity. I will educate you, and when we are through, you will be, at least, minimally capable of making her first time comfortable and enjoyable. Enough so that her esteem of you shall be increased, _and_ , that she will want to partake a second time."

Calem paused a moment to consider.

"You really can promise that?"

"Of course."

"I guess…"

"Then I will ask you only once. Would you like to learn how to treat a woman?"

Calem gathered himself, or tried to, as much as he could with the alcohol flowing through his system. His back firmed up and his chest settled down.

"Yes," he answered.

"Good."

Drasna slowly entered the room. She held her breasts in her arms. An evil smile cut across her face.

"Let the lessons begin."


	4. First Lesson: Foreplay

"Do you know when sex begins?"

"Uh, when we undress?"

"Incorrect."

Neither participant had removed any article of clothing since Drasna's change of attire. She lay over him without laying her hands on his face or body, content to stare into his eyes.

"Sex begins the night before. A good night's rest is essential. I trust your stay at the Pokecenter was refreshing? We do try to accommodate League challengers a bit better than other cities. After all, you've come so far to reach us."

"It was okay." Calem left out the part where he couldn't fall asleep, haunted by the anguish of his loss and second-guessing himself as to what he could have and should have done. On the other hand, he had been allowed to sleep in until noon, so there was that.

"Good enough. As I said, sex begins the night before, and continues through the morning and the rest of the day. It is not enough to storm the castle and make violence out of the blue- you must create anticipation."

Drasna drew a single fingertip over Calem's lips. Calem lay still, nervous, or perhaps waiting on instinct to see how his body would respond. The fingertip drew away just as the boy's lips tried to suckle on it.

"Lesson One: Foreplay," the woman announced.

"A good night's pleasure starts with a pleasant morning greeting. Kiss her gently, while she is still hazed over from slumber. Compliment her, tell her what a good day it will be, offer whatever gracious gesture you deem best amuses her. At this early stage, you are not aiming to arouse her then and there, but to create a general sense of optimism and wellness within her. This good mood will carry on throughout the day, and in her happiness she will remember you, the one who initiated it. As women do, her positive thoughts towards a man will slowly, but surely, build. She will become excited by the thought of you, and eager to see you again."

"That letter…" Calem muttered.

"Yes. You understand."

How could Calem have known that the instant he vanquished Drasna's final Pokémon he had been marked? The innocent conversation after the battle, and the mysterious communiqués thereafter, had been but a part of the net thrown over him.

"It works with men, to an extent. Not as predictably, though. Your gender is so easily distracted." Her point was emphasized by a caress upon his midsection, which he gave full attention to. The woman's scheme to entice him to her lair was momentarily forgotten. Nothing but the feeling of her minute touch, and the eager hope that it should continue, occupied his mind.

"When she comes to you, and she will, greet her warmly. Show confidence. Banish from your mind any thoughts of yourself. Think only of her. Inadequacy, doubt, and selfishness will disappear."

"That's impossible. I'll screw up," Calem argued.

"You may, but she will forgive you. In this situation, a meek man may be brash and a brash man may be meek, because their base nature will hold them back from gross misbehavior. It is better to work against your faults and maybe make mistakes, than to give free reign to your instincts. For you, your self-doubt is your sin; to allow it to magnify and take hold would be to paralyze you, and your lady will lose interest. Do not let that happen."

"Do you think beer would help?" Calem asked.

"Unlikely. Alcohol is good for loosening inhibitions created by social consciousness, not inhibitions rooted in emotional response. It also seems you did not fare well with the smallest amount of champagne. You would probably miscalculate your dosage and drink too much or too little- I should warn you that overdrinking actually makes it difficult to maintain- well, _this_."

Drasna's caress on his thigh moved higher, until it found an elongated mound at the front of Calem's pants. Her fingertips probed around the area, feeling out the exact shape. Even through three layers of fabric- gloves, pants, and boxers- his member felt Drasna's delicate touch and twitched in response.

"Madam, please!"

"Hmm?"

"It hurts. Stop it, or at least-"

Drasna withdrew her hand. A look of relief, but also shame, flit across Calem's face.

"Actually, I was sort of hoping, you'd stop teasing, and let me take it out," Calem admitted.

"How rude!" Drasna said, growing angry.

"It's the truth!" Calem responded.

Drasna suddenly changed her expression and smiled.

"Good!"

"Huh?"

"That was just a little test, to see if you would muster the courage to ask for what you really wanted. You passed."

"Thanks… but are you going to let me undress, or not?"

Calem listened and sensed no verbal response, and so started pulling his pants down himself. He was stopped short by Drasna's hand.

"Ah ah! Not so fast. Here is another quick trick for you to employ. When starting, tease her nethers, lightly and briefly, and then withdraw. It acts the same way as a movie commercial; that is, a glimpse into the best parts of the show. She will be eager for more, you must resist. Just as a movie cannot start and end with the final climax, sex cannot be composed of copulation alone. It must be paced, and leavened, and built up to. The teasing touch is for the purpose of creating anticipation, and no more."

"Then what's next?"

"Have you used an Item Finder?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes, madam."

"The next step is similar. However, your hidden treasures are not nuggets of gold, but lovely things called erogenous zones."

Drasna measured Calem up and down, particularly noting his attire.

"Take off your jacket."

"Um, that's hard to do."

Calem was trapped beneath Drasna. The older woman nodded and then helped him extricate himself from the jacket. Underneath he wore an unremarkable t-shirt.

"I hope you know how to kiss."

"Of course, it can't be hard, right?"

Drasna bent down, placing her face against his neck. Her lips drifted over his skin, not touching but close enough to lick. Calem felt wet warmth on the upper arch of his shoulder muscle. The dampness increased, and began tickling. It encompassed a larger and larger patch of skin, and went deeper and deeper into his nerves. He couldn't tell when exactly her lips made contact, only that they were now firmly embracing his flesh and suckling it. She caught a fold of his skin between her tongue and teeth, and gently kneaded it. The kneading motion continued for ten seconds or so before ending with a slight tug, both lines of teeth nibbling at the spot. The sharpness was on the verge of becoming pain when they released. Her lips followed through on the tug, drawing on the mound, dragging across it before at last letting go. The air of the room rushed in to chill the saliva-dampened spot.

"That is a kiss."

"I guess…"

Calem tried to feign disappointment. After all, when he heard "kiss" he was expecting lips meeting lips. However, his heavy breathing betrayed his true reaction to Drasna's oral probe.

"Your turn." The woman held her hair aside and presented her neck area for him. Calem reached up with his free hand.

"This is in the way."

"Push it aside."

Calem took the collar of her one-piece and pulled it aside. There exposed was her collar bone, the hollow, and the trapezius muscle, all clad in faintly tanned skin. He was close enough to make out the delicate, near-invisible hairs covering her shoulder.

"Where should I?" Calem asked

"Explore," she answered.

Calem didn't hesitate to put his lips onto her neck, but once there he paused, not knowing what to do. His first instinct was to start kissing, a crude smooch the likes of which his relatives would give him, loud and sloppy.

"No, stop that."

"Sorry."

"No apologizing, only listening."

"Yes madam."

"Your lips are not a toilet plunger. It is not enough to mash them against her skin and lips. Try again."

Calem complied, holding his lips out to her neck.

"Don't pucker them. Hold your mouth open naturally. Only slightly, not too wide. Good, now press."

Drasna leaned her head aside to make room for Calem. The lad placed his mouth upon her arch.

"Now close your mouth, slowly."

Calem did so. A small bump of flesh was caught between his lips. Drasna nodded in satisfaction.

"Open and close again."

He did so.

"And again."

A third time, and fourth, and several more, until Drasna was satisfied with his pacing.

"Imagine you are licking a lollipop, or ice cream cone. Use your tongue and lips to hold as much skin as possible. Not your teeth, petard. Lips!"

Calem pulled back, resting his head.

"I didn't think kissing would be so complicated."

"That is why we are starting with kissing the neck, and not mouth to mouth."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Patience. Now, practice."

The intensity of Calem's suckling increased. A slight bruise began forming where his efforts were concentrated. He spotted it, recognized it as a hickie, and moved up an inch so as not to let it swell too much.

"Tut. Tut. Tut." Once she sensed Calem moving, she began clucking. The boy quickly picked up her signals, and began searching for the more positive-sounding ones. Displeased clicks greeted him the further he moved towards the shoulder or across the collar-bone. He tried to crane his head around, finding a point close to the nape of her neck, and there found the mark. Drasna's clucks gave way to utterances of pleasure. Calem had the good sense to notice her cries and press harder, trying every iteration of motion he could imagine with his orifice.

A hand wrapped around his brow and pulled him down. Drasna gazed lovingly into his eyes, pleased with his progress.

"You have found one of my erogenous zones. Every woman has them, but not all at the same points. You will have to explore to find these hidden buttons of pleasure, and also figure out how to press them. I suggest starting with kissing and blowing- not licking, please. Try her neck region, the back of it, the base of the hairline, her shoulder tendon, her collar bone, behind the lobe of her ear, the small of her back. Listen to her utterances. Pay attention to her body language, particularly the small things- if she flinches, that is wrong, if she tenses up, that is good. Pulling away: bad, pushing towards: good. If she lies still, sometimes that means a woman is not feeling anything, but sometimes it means she enjoys it and does not want to interrupt it. Ask her what she is feeling, and use that as a guide going forward."

"How are you feeling?" Calem immediately asked.

"In control," Drasna said, suddenly taking the young man's balls through his pants. The response was silence from the man. The reward for silence was gentle, playful coddling of the balls. Her other hand busied itself by stroking his face, shoulder, neck, underarm, and belly- basically any exposed section of skin. It eventually crawled under his shirt, rubbing along his chest. Reaching his pects, her fingers curled into claws and dragged downwards. Calem flinched as the seams along her fingernails dug into his breast, drawing mild pain, and then shivered when they reached his belly and elicited a tickling, pleasurable sensation.

"These clothes are in the way. How banal. Take off your shoes for me."

Drasna lifted herself off the young man so he could carry out her order. Drasna took note of how Calem carefully pulled off his shoes and then socks, folding the latter and stacking them neatly at the bedside. The difference between appearing composed and deliberate or wild and carefree was important, but it depended on the woman whether it was perceived as good or bad. Drasna did not know the preferences of Calem's companion, so she decided against lecturing the boy about his manners. For herself, though, she was quite pleased with his gentlemanly conduct.

"Pants as well."

Corduroy fabric was fine for adventuring through the Kalos countryside, but was far too stiff and rough for the bedroom. As before, Calem slid them off, folded them, and deposited the clothing beside his shoes. On second glance he spotted his discarded jacket and repeated the process.

"How proper," Drasna said to herself.

Calem was left in his t-shirt and boxers while sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Now what?" he asked.

"This is the point I usually have my play-toys don a skin-tight top and collar-"

Calem's face blanched at the suggestion-

"But I see you are averse to that. It's really a shame, I would have loved to add you to my collection."

"Of what?"

"Hmm?"

"Collection of what?" Calem reiterated, curious.

"Of pets," Drasna answered.

Calem's confidence scattered like a flock of Fletchlings.

"Hands up."

He obeyed, stretching his arms straight up. He felt her hands wrap around his waist, running up and down his torso and across the backside of his ribs. When they brushed the ticklish area just beneath his rib cage, he convulsed. His heaving mounted, beginning to go out of control. It was like trying to hold a Chimchar throwing a temper tantrum. Drasna held him tight and steady until the convulsions subsided. That accomplished, her hands ran upwards, under his shirt, stretching and reaching to his chest. With one swift motion the shirt was pulled over his body and head.

Calem blinked, blinded by the cloth dragging over his brow. He found himself without room to breath or see. It took a moment before he registered the face pressed up to his own, the waves of hair falling over his shoulders, and the soft flesh meeting his lips. The young man froze in shock, making it all the easier for the opposing lips to work their greeting upon him.

Drasna continued the kiss, casually tossing his shirt away. Once free to help, her hands became clamps upon his cheeks, holding his head in place. He brought his hands up to force her away, but ended up offering paltry, futile resistance. The limp grasp on her wrists only served to excite Drasna more. Her fingers combed through his lush hair, digging into his scalp, clutching him all the harder as he sought to escape.

Drasna's oral caresses came upon him like waves upon a seashore, slow but steady, swelling and dwindling, but each time building upon one another. She pressed harder, forcing the boy back upon the bed, until she was on top of him. If not for the assault of her lips upon his, he might have felt the twin mounds of succulence resting on his chest, separated by nothing more than sheer fabric. He would have noticed the ample thighs wriggling across his hips, stocking-enshrouded legs interlocking with his own. Or perhaps he would register the hefty mass of a human body, to him an unknown burden, weighing down upon him. Yet, despite it all, the parallel curves of sensation feasting on his face was all he could think of. Tingling jolts ran from his lips to his brain, and down the stem to his nethers where his "other" brain resided, and back.

"Mnnnph!"

Drasna forgot her strength and gave in to her instinct, crushing the poor boy in her embrace. Her mouth locked over his, completely consuming it. Calem jerked and struggled back.

"Mnnnn!"

When he started flailing, Drasna got the message and released.

"PHAW!"

Both humans released heavy, pungent breaths. For Drasna, a glitter of emotion: she was merely getting warmed up, and this was a disappointing interruption. Yet she thought of what was to come and the anticipation brought a sly smile to her face. For Calem, he was lost in shock, unable to logically grasp how such immense pleasure could come from such violent interplay. The aftermath of the kiss left him shivering and feeling exposed. His teacher hovered over him.

She stroked his cheek, trying to reassure him.

"Intimacy can be frightening."

"Intense," Calem panted out in reply.

"Shall we continue?"

Calem shook his head.

"Need breath," he gasped.

Drasna's fingertips rested daintily on his bare breast. Drasna felt the motion of his chest rising and falling. She enjoyed the sensation of it: his breathing, the feeling of physically touching his life in progress. She loved doing this with all of her pets- it reminded her that they were living beings, human beings, with their own wants and needs. She reminded herself to attend to Calem's needs first. After all, he was the boy and she the woman, and it was she who desired this arrangement.

She gazed down the length of his torso. His breathing had settled down, and so her touch drifted from his chest to his armpit, where it traced the bulge of his pectoral muscles.

 _Built like a Sawsbuck_ , she noted to herself.

" _'Sex is a thing of the mind'_ , have you heard of that saying?"

"Yes madam, I have."

"That doesn't mean that the body is a slave to the mind. It is an equal partner, a symbiont, and as such must be afforded respect and care. This is the lesson of foreplay: remember always that humans are thinking animals. Homo Sapiens, literally 'Thinking Man'. The nexus of neurons that governs pleasure is intimately connected to both the network of nerves throughout our body and to the prefrontal lobe that is, essentially, our thinking conscious. What happens to the body affects the mind. What the mind thinks affects the body. They are intertwined."

"That seems simple enough."

"For most men, it's an extremely difficult idea to wrap their minds around."

"Not me. I understand."

"Do you?"

"I do!" Calem insisted.

"Let me demonstrate, then."

Drasna's hand reached directly into Calem's boxers, grabbed ahold of his dick, and began pumping furiously. The boy jerked away in surprise.

"Ah!" His cry was definitely not one of pleasant surprise.

"Did that not feel good?"

"No!" He bit his tongue and refrained from spitting out the "What the hell?!" that had popped into his mind. "It hurt. Too rough, too fast," he said instead.

"Exactly."

Calem cocked his head.

"Pants off, cock up, penetrate, pump, finish- clinical, thoughtless, joyless, awful." Drasna shook her head in distaste.

"So that's what it's like for most girls?" Calem asked.

"With an inexperienced man, yes, yes, a hundred times yes. Women accuse the men of thinking only of themselves, but that is giving them too much credit: men hardly think at all. They are consumed by instinctual urge, fully and solely focused on the act itself, desperately trying to get to that crescendo. Ask most women if the orgasm is the most important part of sex, and they will reply with a resounding "No!"."

"You want to teach me to use foreplay before putting it in."

"I want you to think about what you are doing while you are doing it. Foreplay is about thinking." Drasna's harsh expression softened. "There will be time enough for thoughtless abandon, later on."

She leaned down and gave Calem a momentary kiss. Her lips returned, and this time her tongue flitted out, tasting his upper lip. She found easy passage into his orifice. It didn't last long before she withdrew.

"Let me demonstrate the proper way to first engage your partner's genitals," she said.

Her entire body slithered down across his. These were no longer dainty touches, but firm clawings that dug into his flesh. Where they met bone, they glided over. Come fat or muscle, and they sunk as deep as the skin would allow. Where they found purchase and drew forth a reaction, Drasna's lips soon followed. Her puckered lips were wet and heavy on his skin. Clumps of her hair brushed his sides, sending tingling sensation across his epidermis. The feeling was somewhere between tickling and itching, and he desperately wanted to brush it aside. He dared not- that might interrupt the ghostly nuzzling and the bestial massage that was being perpetrated upon his midriff. His nerves were already firing off, and she had barely reached the inside of his hip.

The sensations stopped short. Drasna did not cease her affections, but neither did she bring them to the center of his lust. The boy whined. They were so close, and the mere anticipation had his pelvic muscles clenching up on themselves. Her thumbs kneaded circles in his belly, slowly drifting inwards and downwards. They tucked under the rim of his boxers and lifted an inch.

Calem inhaled.

Her thumbs released the elastic band, snapping it back in place.

"Not yet," Drasna teased.

"When?"

"Shhhh."

The lady rested her head down on his boxers. Her cheek lay directly on his bulge, rubbing up and down like a feline. Calem gazed down the length of his chest at the woman. Her eyes were closed, senses focused on touch, not sight. Her hair was splayed out across his abdomen. For a moment, she was no longer a teacher, but a little girl, enjoying herself. The boy raised a hesitant hand to her head, and like a Meowstic, she rose to meet his touch. With more confidence, he ran his fingers through her hair, the strands falling through the cracks of his fingers. Her skull felt uneven and covered in slight dimples and bumps. He wandered down the back where the hair was thickest and took a bundle of it in his fist.

“Mmmnn.”

He hesitated. Should he let go? Pull hard?

“Pull,” Drasna murmured helpfully.

He tried pulling straight up, but found it too much of a strain. Instead he tried grasping harder, tugging the hair together by the leverage of his knuckles against her skull. The individual strands tore at their roots, sending a mass of prickling sensations directly to her brain. The strands slowly slipped through his fingers and he lost purchase. He re-gripped, trying a slightly different area, and repeated the gesture.

“That’s it.”

Drasna’s head was flexing under the pain of her hair being pulled. Each time his grasp reached its peak, she resisted, pulling away from it, and consequently pushing her cheek harder into his groin. Calem’s privates responded to the pressure, aching for a stronger touch. He began pushing down, forcing her harder upon the wanton bulge.

“Good. Use me. Show me what you want.”

Her head offered less resistance now. He could tug and pull and shove it anyway he wanted. What he wanted was release, and the boxers were in the way. Even shoving her face against his privates repeatedly, forcefully, was not producing the desired feeling. There was no friction, no smoothness. Cotton was far too coarse to incite the nerves on his shaft. Hard as he was, try as he might, he could not exceed this plateau of intensity.

“Can I take it out yet?” he begged.

“I will,” Drasna answered.

She crept up his torso, coming to a rest aside him, her head even with his shoulder. She slithered one hand under his band.

“What am I doing?” she asked.

“You’re poking my tip with your fingertip.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Not really.”

“This is another ‘tip’ for you,” she said, smirking at her own pun. “Your tip is not sexually sensitive, it is rather delicate and prone to irritation actually. The same is true for females. When the time comes, I will show you a urethra. Avoid it. You will never find a lady who enjoys having the hole from which she urinates prodded and probed.”

She manipulated her fingers around beneath his boxers.

“Now what am I touching?”

“Um. That part, I don’t know what to call it.”

“Not surprising, society is so shy in teaching its youth the specifics of their own anatomy. This is your... well, actually,” Drasna frowned. “It seems you are circumcised.”

“I am?”

“You didn’t know?”

Calem fell silent.

Throughout his teenaged years, there was a lot of rumors and pal-talk about cut versus uncut, while factual information was hard to come by. He never had the courage to ask his parents whether he was circumcised, and never had access to reliable visual materials to make that determination for himself. To have the answer so blatantly put to him- it was beyond embarrassing. It was enough to vacate his hard-on.

“I see. You’re ashamed. Listen to me.” He tried, but his thoughts were elsewhere. “Listen to me,” she repeated, and again, until he turned his head and looked her eye to eye. “Stop thinking. Focus on what you are feeling.”

He closed his eyes.

She had his flaccid shaft caught between her middle and ring finger, while her pointer finger and thumb worked on the loose mass of flesh she had pointed out earlier.

“How does it feel?”

What could Calem say? The rubs, pinches, and flicks were piercing his senses all the way to his cranium and back. She got her answer with the return of his erection.

“Just because your foreskin was removed does not mean that the nerves that ran through it were also removed. It simply means the nerve endings are now confined to a particular patch of skin- the intersection of your penile raphe and the circumcision scar, where some foreskin tissue remains. Which is here.”

Calem jerked. She had tugged at the lump of flesh just beneath his head. It was that precise spot where he found the most intense sensations while masturbating. This was similar, but the feeling of having it stimulated by something other than his own hand, by an object with its own movement and own will, and for that matter, something so expertly dexterous in its manipulation- the sensations were magnified beyond his imagination.

And yet-

“Madam Drasna.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s a little, um, rough.”

“Ah. The gloves.”

She withdrew her hand, prompting a squirming protestation from the boy. Her fingers twirled in the air above them.

“I think it is fascinating, the intersection of men’s visual sensuality and women’s interest in visual appeal. Do you think my gender’s obsession with fashion a coincidence? Or an outgrowth of primal sexual sensibilities?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think of this? My hand, encased in this fabric, and my legs, wrapped tightly in this cloth, and my breasts, hidden beneath this mesh?”

“I think it makes you look sexy.”

“Arousing, even?”

Calem looked her up and down. There was a certain intellectual appeal at work here. The sexual appeal of a woman in normal attire was based solely on her looks- was she naturally beautiful, does her choice of style and cosmetics make her look attractive? A woman in the nude shows her entire body; the sight of her reserved parts incites lust and adds additional complexity to her beauty, but it also subtracts her fashion from the equation.

A woman dressed such as Drasna, with skimpy, revealing lingerie, has every advantage. Calem had to admit, it was not just the visual aesthetics that came into play here- the choice of attire was sexy in itself, but also unambiguously signaled Drasna’s intentions. Calem struggled a bit to put his feelings into words, but finally found the right ones.

“You’re dressed like you want to have sex with me.”

“Exactly.”

What had she said earlier? Sex is a thing of the mind? Foreplay was about thinking? This little show made him appreciate that advice all the more. The way she was dressed told him ‘I want _you_ , I want you in _that_ way’. Of course, that visual invitation and mental implication was nothing short of a burning ignition for his lust. He was aware of what was happening, that Drasna was leading him along this predetermined line of thought- and he welcomed it. His fantasies were running wild, of what could be and likely would be in a very, very short span of time.

And yet, her arm and hand lay across his bare belly, drawing circles, and he was reminded of the cost of having that visual addition. The seams of her glove bit into his skin, creating as much irritation as stimulation.

“It scratches.”

“Yes.”

Drasna leaned up onto one elbow.

“There is a trade-off. I can take these garments off and show you the wonderful sensation of bare skin upon bare skin, the angelic smoothness, the microscopic hairs triggering tiny sensations in their multitudes, nerves directly touching nerves- or I can keep them on, and continue the feast of the eyes. It is a choice you and your missus will have to make.”

Calem contemplated for a moment.

Whatever material the gloves and stockings were made of, it was incredibly smooth, much easier to tolerate than cotton or denim. Any area besides his privates and they were perfectly suitable in terms of tactile sensation. And he had to admit she looked so *damn* sexy in them.

“You can keep them on.”

Drasna nodded.

“That is the way I prefer it, I’m glad you like it too. Then, I will show you that there are ways to circumvent the texture issue.”

She reached under, found his shaft, and rubbed her palm across it. It was still erect, although its stiffness waxed and waned.

“You are young, I am sure I could easily pleasure you despite the relative roughness of the fabric.”

Calem nodded, quite sure she could.

“But the pleasure would not reach the same peak if something smoother were available.”

“Uhhh.”

Drasna wiggled her way down his body. Her head came to a hover above his pelvis area.

“Let’s see it.”

Her hands cupped his balls, her wrist twisted, forcing the waistband of the boxers down beneath his scrotum. His penis was exposed all at once, twitching against the sudden exposure to cool air.

“There it is.”

She rubbed it through her fingers, all of it, the head, the hairy balls, the flush red membrane, the stiffening member.

“Are you going to-” Calem asked, leaving the question hanging, unsure what he was even daring to ask. He brought his hand into a clutched gesture, and mimed jerking up and down.

“A hand job? No, better.”

Drasna leaned down.

_Wait. What is she doing?_

Calem saw her go down on him, felt her breath on his penis, but couldn’t comprehend the action. His eyes went wide. Drasna noticed.

_Ah, children. Parents and teachers do such a thorough job of insulating them in this country, they hardly know the basics of the bedroom. Such innocence._

“Mnn.”

Calem was not so innocent as Drasna presumed, but merely misinformed.

Going down, putting one’s mouth on a man’s penis, that was not something a girl does willingly, or so Calem had been led to believe. It was a vulgar act, a forced act, mostly relegated to the vile desires of rapists. Yet, here he was, a lovely lady between his thighs, willingly taking his cock in her mouth. With a little thinking, he berated himself for his naivety. How could it be so grotesque, given what she had just showed him? If kisses could be used so well on the neck and lips, why would it be so unnatural to do the same on the most sensuous part of the body? There is-

-then Drasna’s lips touched his glans, and all thinking ceased.

_Warm. Slick._

-the first and second words that immediately came to his mind.

 _Incredible_.

-the third.

How could he have imagined this? In what reality was this bliss possible? The feeling was vaguely similar to sucking one’s thumb, but only in the fundamentals. Her lips wrapped around the edge of his head, while the inside of her cheeks glided over his glans. There was no friction, the saliva and immaculately soft tissue produced no chaffing, only pressure. He could sense her teeth, hard, sharp, there, but kept at bay by an aggressive whip of muscle. He was thinking it was the height of pleasure, and then her tongue lashed out, striking the mass of flesh and nerves underneath his head.

“Ah!”

The wet whip came out again, this time staying out and licking side to side. The boy cried out loud. Muscles all up his body and down his limbs flexed. His toes curled. His back lifted itself from the bed. Her tongue paused and rested against the underside. Calem dared to relax.

The entire cavern of her mouth lunged forward, her tongue and lower lip took hold of his frenulum and gave four quick sucks, the last releasing the tip from her mouth.

Calem’s pelvis jolted upwards. His cock twitched sporadically, uncontrollably, as if lit by an electric wire.

“This is why I love young men. So sensitive,” Drasna said to herself. She nuzzled the underside of his shaft with the tip of her nose until it ceased twitching. Then she took it in the bosom of her lips and kissed, down its length, reaching the end and rebounding back upwards. Her hands cupped his balls and her fingertips dug into the mounds of flesh about the base.

“Madam.”

She took a long lick straight up the shaft, the tip of her tongue flicking off the quivering tip of his penis. His hips suddenly began jerking, desperately jutting his forsaken member towards her retreating lips. She grinned, keeping her orifice just an inch out of reach.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m about to come. Please,” Calem whimpered.

“Oh you mustn’t let that happen.”

She took the head of his cock in her other hand and squeezed tight. The building pressure within momentarily subsided.

“This is called edging. The life of an orgasm is short, its shining bliss robbed by its brevity. You will find, and I am quite sure your lady will find too, that delaying the finale is the best way to maximize the total amount of pleasure. Race towards the edge, and see how close and how many times you can stop shy- and only when your feelings are about to burst should you leap over.”

Drasna shifted on the bed, turning her body opposite to his lengthwise.

“Your turn.”

Her prodigious rear came into view, hovering over him. He could feel the weight of her tummy and breasts atop him, heavier than he imagined. Her knees shifted, positioning her groin area directly above his face. It wasn’t hard to guess what was expected of him.

“Your, um, swimsuit thing is in the way.”

“Push it aside.

Calem lifted a pair of fingers to the thin strip of cloth. He inhaled. The fabric gave way.

His first real glimpse of a vagina.

It was not what he imagined.

The poems called it a flower, but to him it looked more like the innards of a Clamperl. Her mound and labia were swollen, billowing out in layers of fleshy folds. The clit was barely visible through the quagmire. When the lady took a deep breath the cavern of sex opened a little, with blackness inside. The skin surrounding the opening was showing signs of age, wrinkled and loose. It was altogether not very enticing to the young man. At least the lady kept her pubic hairs cleanly shaved.

“Uhhh…”

Drasna heard his utterance and immediately understood his reluctance.

“I am no spring maiden,” she told him sternly. “Deal with it for now. Your woman’s gift will be much more presentable.”

Calem closed his eyes, relaxed, and banished the less-than-ideal image from his mind. He leaned up and pressed his lips to her vagina.

It was not like kissing her lips, nor her skin. There was a taste to this.

 _Tastes strange, like vinegar_ , he thought. Well, it wasn’t altogether as repugnant as he first thought. He started by kissing but found no real purchase and elicited no reaction from his teacher. He tried mimicking the motions of their adult kiss, and this time was rewarded. Drasna’s posterior tensed a little, pushed down into him, and small utterances of approval came from within her throat. He licked up and down, sucked and slurped the folds he could get ahold of, and generally tried experimenting.

“Good. Goo-o-o-od,” Drasna repeated with a squirm. “That was my clitoris,” she informed him. “Ah! Do not stimulate it directly. Actually, you may, but do not get into the habit. Mine is not so sensitive as it once was, but your miss is young and will not enjoy its rough handling. Be gentle, tease, and address the area adjacent to it. Work upon it indirectly.”

“Yes madam.”

He lapped the tip of his tongue in quick circles around the sides of the lump he had discovered. His circling sped up, becoming a whirlwind revolving around her clit.

“Good man. The urethra is a half inch below the clitoris, beware to not interrogate it too hard.”

“I can’t really feel it though.”

“Passing over it is fine. Focus on the clitoris and folds of my labia.”

“What about your, erm, big hole?”

“If you want, however, a tongue is not really the instrument to stimulate that area.”

Calem tried it. He found that his tongue did not penetrate very far into her, that his nose was buried in her flesh, and that she showed no special reaction. However, the bitter taste grew stronger, and he began detecting a hint of sweetness in it, making it more pleasant to the taste buds. He thought about going deeper, but decided to heed Drasna’s advice and focus on her clit. He doubled down and began vigorously suckling upon the little lump. She in turn returned her orifice to his cock, encompassing the head whole and sucking.

They worked in tandem, he finding it easier to keep up his attentions if timed to her rhythm. She began speeding up, nearing the speed he would normally maintain when jacking himself off. He tried to keep up. When he thought he could go no harder, her buttocks began shivering and twitching. He withdrew his tongue in order to breath.

“Haa. That was… Drasna, did you cum there?”

A giggle.

“Yes, a little.”

Calem couldn’t help but smile; his chest began swelling. He couldn’t erase the expression even as he realized Drasna was staring at him between the length of their bodies.

“You look so proud of yourself.”

“Sorry.” He felt sorry, though he still couldn’t erase the grin from his face.

“Your pride is not unwarranted. I’ve had many men who could not make me cum on their first bedding. If nothing else, you are a quick learner.”

“Thank you. And, I don’t mean to be full of myself.”

“Worry not, my dear. You’ve no means to master _me_.”

And to demonstrate her complete control of the situation, she knelt down and wrapped her mouth around his base. Her whole lip and jaw slid up his shaft, flicked her tongue across his head, reached down, sucked, slurped up, down again, up again, pumping his head quickly, twisting her head with each stroke, and succeeding in firming his dick ever harder. Calem thought he was about to burst, but at the climax, she clamped down with her teeth using her lips as cushion, cutting off the eruption. It receded by a little, she released her grip and worked once more in furious jackhammering motion. Her fingers dug into the sides of his pubic base, encouraging the blood further into his aching member. For Calem, it hurt, but it was a wanted pain, a pain of pleasure.

Then she went down on him- to the balls.

“EH?!”

She had the entirety of his shaft in her throat. To add to the pressure and wetness the whole way down his dick, he now sensed an incredible heat on his head. Then slickness, as she receded. Yet, on reaching the tip, she went down again, burying his dick all the way down her orifice. This motion repeated, growing faster, and faster. He could hardly believe the pace she managed despite the impossible physical strain she was putting herself through.

How can she breath? he wondered.

He wondered not long, because the pain and pleasure and general excitement in his nethers were building to an unstoppable crescendo.

Drasna dropped herself upon him, throwing her full weight down upon his penis. He could feel her throat, he was deep.

Then she began sucking, the entire length all at once, from her tonsils to her lips.

“Ah!” Calem cried out. It was all coming out. His dick was convulsing, unleashing everything, all of its energy and tension and love load all at once. The orgasm reached up into his chest and down his arms, causing his hands to ball into fists. His chest was heaving, his hips were buckling.

As men’s orgasms do, it was over in seconds. Yet a more exhilarating ten seconds he had never felt in all his hundreds of sessions of self-love.

“Pah!” Drasna withdrew, leaving his dick twitching in agony from post-ejaculation hypersensitivity.

“Madam-” an awestruck, winded Calem uttered.

Drasna gulped, taking the load into her stomach. She paused to catch her breath, which only took half a minute.

“That is a little of what I am capable of,” she told the young man.

“Oye.”

Calem was a little dazed.

“Now we have covered the basics of foreplay: preparation, arousal, caresses, kissing, petting, oral. This has been a brief session. For her first time, I expect for you to be patient and prolong foreplay for as long as necessary, until she is comfortable.”

“Yes madam.”

Drasna lifted herself around. She straddled him, pelvis resting just below his cock, sitting straight up so that she towered above him.

“If you fully grasp that, then it is time to move on to the main affair,” she declared. “Prepare yourself.”


	5. Second Lesson: Coitus, Demonstration

Drasna lowered her head until she was eye-level with Calem. Her knowing grin unsettled Calem as it drifted over his cheeks, nose, and brow. It felt like she was daring him to kiss her again, but he wasn’t sure. She giggled, enjoying his confusion. Her grip came as a shock, he was distracted and not prepared. She had her fingers locked around his balls, the tip of her ring finger dug into the crack of his anus. It was tight, painful even. Calem winced.

“Don’t cry.”

The young man complied. Her vice-grip had his balls cradled in the gaps between her fingers, sparing them from crushing. The force of the grip was all on his flesh, the skin of his sack and the underlying tissue. Her thumb was prodding some deep-rooted artery, evoking a constricting, generalized pain that lacked bite but had plenty of pressure.

“You mustn’t cry.”

“I won’t.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No madam.”

“Does it feel good?”

“I don’t know, madam.”

“What about now?” She began massaging his member with her thumb. It responded, stiffening. Calem then sensed what was happening. The tissue Drasna was crushing deep inside was the blood vessel that ran to his penis and was responsible for its erection. Her pressure made it harder to keep the erection, but his body was not willing to let it go- it worked against the constriction, striving to force blood up the channel. He felt it pulse, his heart and pelvic muscles working in tandem to overcome the outside interference.

“Look at me.”

Calem snapped his focus to her face.

“Do you want inside of me? Do you want your virginity taken by me?”

Calem’s mind stirred. His thoughts quickened, as did his heart. Incensed chemicals washed through his system like a tsunami wave, reaching into every channel, every blood vessel, out to the smallest nerve. It converged on his genitals, surging all the muster of his heart, his lungs, and his muscles into one singular effort. His dick was flushed, standing firm, ignorant of the restrictive claws about its base.

Drasna relented, sliding her palm and fingers higher, around the shaft, gently massaging it.

“You see, your erection starts in the mind. It builds from there, surging into the pelvis, where it musters strength, activating all the auxiliary organs, before at last thrusting into the conquering spear. Do you feel this?”

“Yes.” Calem nodded. She was using the fingers of both hands to dig into the flesh around the base of his penis. “It feels good.”

“Have you ever tried this when masturbating?”

“No I haven’t.”

“You should. Sexual sensations are not confined to the mere patch of skin at the end of your rod, nor are they limited to sensitive surface nerves. All your pelvis, inside and out, and indeed, the whole of your body, is involved in achieving that most wonderful climax. This is important to remember, because a woman’s body has no penis. She gains less than you from the stimulation of her own clitoris, and relies more on the stimulation of her whole body. The pressures, the massage, the working and kneading of her flesh, these are things you must work towards. We have practiced a little of this using your lips and fingers, but to reach the peak of lust, you must unite your pleasure and hers.”

She lifted herself so that her flower was hovering delicately over his upturned pistil. She had it raised with her fingers.

“Relax. This first time will be for your pleasure. Allow me to show you the meaning of ecstasy.”

 Calem finally fully understood what Drasna meant as his penis head slipped about the folds of her vagina. The sensations were similar to the touch of her lips, both in their kind and the intensity of their pleasure. It was no better, physically, than what had already transpired. And yet… And yet… It was already so much more. His imagination was a raging inferno that could not be controlled. The very idea that he was about to _bury his dick inside this woman’s pussy_ was intoxicating. It grabbed ahold of him and forced him to action. He reached up to her hips, took them by her meaty handles, and jerked downwards.

“TUT TUT TUT!” The dragon lady was astonishingly strong. She resisted his pull, keeping his dick at bay. When he found he could not pull her down onto him, he tried jerking his own pelvis upwards. This failed, his penis slipped off-target and glided along her labia. Drasna reacted by reaching to his face, covering his eyes in her palm and shoving his head roughly into the pillow. When he resisted, she crushed her own pelvis forcefully on top of him, hurting his stomach.

“Stop! Stay still!” she commanded.

Calem went limp.

“THAT is what I have been warning you against.”

“Sorry.”

“’Sorry’? My boy, apologize properly.”

“I am sorry and apologize, madam. Forgive me for being rough.”

Drasna leaned down, her face close to his, her hand still covering his vision. “I will accept your apology, because I am not emotionally invested in this meeting. Your lady will not forgive this brutish behavior, however. Control yourself! Do not give in to your primal urges at first opportunity!”

“Yes madam.”

“Your lady will be a virgin, and very likely, her first penetration will be a delicate event, easily ruined by grotesque displays of power.”

“Her hymen, right?” Calem asked.

“Correct. While it is unlikely to be fully intact at her age, there is bound to be residual tissue that will tear and bleed. It will be painful. How painful depends on your approach and execution. To do as you just did would make it excruciating, likely enough to end the encounter then and there. At best, it will mar her memories of her first time and color all further interaction. At worst, she may shy away from any future coitus with you.”

“That’s what I was afraid of!” Calem exclaimed. “You said you’d help me control myself and make it a good experience for her. How? How do I stop myself when she’s right there for the taking?” Calem glanced out from under Drasna’s fingers, looking into her eyes, and then down their bodies to the point where their flesh met.

“There’s but one trick. Practice,” Drasna replied.

Once again she lifted her rear over his shaft. The interruption had the saving grace of allowing it a little more time to recover from its previous orgasm. Now restored and stimulated by the caress of her hands, it firmed up once more. She maneuvered it until its aim was aligned with her opening. Calem felt the familiar burning arousal, but could not muster the same intensity, not after her stern warning. Instead, he decided to concentrate on the sensations.

“It’s in.”

Calem inhaled.

It was like her first kiss on his neck. He never felt the puncture, only comprehending the warm, slick sensation now encapsulating his shaft in the moment. Even as he registered the basic feeling of being embedded in her, he also felt motion and pressure- she was gyrating her hips in slow, back and forth motions.

“I’m inside of you,” he uttered.

“Yes you are.”

“I’m really inside of you,” he repeated, astonished.

“Congratulations. Do you feel like a man yet?”

He shook his head.

He felt like a boy in Santa’s toy shop, in awe of the current situation.

Drasna smirked.

“Technically, if I pull out now, you would still be a virgin.”

“Madam, please don’t say such things.”

She rocked her hips a bit, still slowly, just enough to move his dick around inside her.

“Humor has its place, even during sex. Probably not for your first time, but in the future, a little tease, a soft joke, can be of use in showing your genuine affection. Also, mind this-” she gave his member an emphatic shove. “Whilst penetrated, it is necessary to keep up the stimulation upon your penis. Letting it go limp while embedded is quite murderous to the moment.”

Calem grumbled.

“What’s that?”

“It’s just, this is my first time, and you’re lecturing me.”

“Ah! You’re right! My apologies. Then I repeat, relax, and enjoy.”

As she commenced, what struck Calem was not the pleasure coming from his nethers. That, of course, was pleasant, but expected. What surprised him was the presence of her body. He could feel her at so many different points across his own body, it was overloading his ability to comprehend the input. As soon as he focused on the supple rub of her tit on his chest, a press of her thigh upon his would jerk his attention away. From the svelte of her gloves on his shoulders, to the brush of her hair along his chest, down to the entanglement of her legs around his, the sensations were coming from everywhere, all at once. This wasn’t his hand on his dick, nor even a mouth wrapped around it, but a person, a _woman_ , mounted upon him and moving of her own volition and will. It was exhilarating.

Her fingers clamped down a little harder, gaining purchase. Her weight started pressing on him, which translated directly into the thrusting upon his member. Her movements took on a focused, pounding nature. Her pelvis smacked against his upper leg, sending small shockwaves through his bowels. The bursts of pressure accentuated the pulses of pleasure emanating from the surface of his dick. The convalescing of these forces started building. Without realizing it, Calem was bucking his hips upwards to meet her every thrust.

“Good?” Drasna asked.

Calem managed a nod in between throes. She smiled and snickered.

Drasna herself was holding back. The way she had Calem’s dick inserted, it was not in a position to tug at her labia and clit like she would have were she pleasuring herself. This was for the boy’s benefit. There would be time enough for that later. For now, she had his shaft gripped as tightly as possible within her, and angled diagonal, in order to press it against her wall. From the way he kept rapidly opening and shutting his eyes, she knew it was working, the youth was in ecstasy.

The problem with the virgins, she thought, was that they become overwhelmed by the act itself. The older and more experienced men could be disciplined into paying attention to her, worship her, and show the proper submission during intercourse. It was a tradeoff. As it were, the awe and thrill of the youth were plainly evident in his expressions and utterances, and that was enough to interest her. Once Calem closed his eyes and kept them shut, she knew it was time. She leaned down, close to him, right up to his ear.

“It’s time for you to become a man.”

She kissed him again, hard, enough to force his head back. He returned it as best he could before it slipped away. The woman raised herself upright, held her posture steady with one arm and used the other to hold his butt cheek. Then she began rocking out.

“AH!”

Her body was _moving_. Her hips were a machine, her buttocks a blur in their bouncing. It was faster, harder, tighter than his most aggressive masturbations. The act was like violence, welcome harm perpetrated upon his deepest bodily cavities. His dick hurt from its own strain, never mind the slick, voluptuous tomb crushing down upon it over and over and over.

“Yes!” Drasna cried, roused and inflamed. “Cum! CUM! Fucking welcome it boy!”

Calem grabbed her sides with his hands. His fingers spasmed into fists repeatedly, like the motion of a heart beating at full sprint. His whole body shivered. The tension of nerves coiled into a crescendo.

“AHHHHH!” Calem cried. He gripped behind her buttocks and dragged her down into him. She was still bucking, his pull jacked each thrust into a body blow. Then it all sprung.

Biochemical electricity sizzled from one end of his nervous system to the other. His muscles hardened into steel. His clutch of her brought her down upon him, and she could no longer pull back from it. His head erupted within her vagina, a hot dampness followed.

She fell upon the quivering male, holding him tight, his head in her arms, her cleavage in his chin. She made sure to give him room to breathe, which he needed, as he was heaving heavily.

“I did it,” he whispered.

“Shhh. Relax. Enjoy this moment.”

The humans settled into stillness, doing naught but breathing, lost in the delusion of the little death.

Minutes passed like golden ages, lasting forever but leaving only flittering, appeasing memories soaked in the sweet stench of decadence.

“Hah. Hah. Hah.” Calem tried speaking, but still felt himself out of breath.

The lady, despite her age and effort, recovered quicker.

“Rest.” She took her weight off him and slid aside.

“Again?” he inquired softly. The breathless, cute utterance brought a knowing grin to her face. She had him, she knew it, and she loved it. What brought her the greatest joy in these endeavors was always the thrill of seduction and satisfaction in its success.

“Not yet. You need to recover. Let us talk instead.”

Calem nodded, and then collapsed back into the bedding, arms and legs splayed out.


	6. Third Lesson: Interlude, Context

Drasna reclined herself beside Calem, head propped up by her elbow, gazing along his naked length.

“May I ask something?” Drasna asked.

“Do you really need permission, madam?” Calem replied.

“Very true. I want to know more about your relationship with the young lady.”

“Serena?”

“Yes, that’s her name. Are you getting along? Is it well? Are your feelings mutual?”

“Well…”

The boy blushed, tossed, and turned his head.

“I like her, and I’m pretty sure she likes me. We’ve gone on dates and held hands and had really intimate conversations. We’ve never gone and said we’re in a relationship though.”

“Have you kissed?”

Calem winced.

“Once. A quick peck,” he admitted.

“I see.” Drasna pondered his answer a moment. “I have been giving you advice on the assumption that your relationship was already well advanced. Perhaps that was hasty of me. Perhaps she is not ready to lose her virginity, that would be important to ascertain first.”

“Oh!” Calem shook his head. “Serena is… I mean, she’s not a prude at all. She’ll talk easily enough about it, so it’s not like I don’t think she’s not ready for it. It’s just, she’s very romantic and maybe puts sex itself on a pedestal. I’ve always been really afraid of making things official between us, because she’ll expect us to sleep together and expect it to go as well as she’s dreaming about. I don’t want to lose what I’ve got with her by making it a horrible nightmare for her.”

“Is that your fear? Well, I always urge consideration, respect-”

“Like the respect you showed when you drugged me?” Calem shot in.

“-and _confidence_. Don’t interrupt.” Calem gave her a cheeky, not at all sorry grin. “With that said, I know her little and you know her quite well. Act on your best judgment. As for your concerns, that is what our next session will be.”

“And if that’s not enough?” Calem asked worriedly. “What if I’m still not good enough for her?”

Drasna tilted her brow and fixed him in her stare. “I can arrange as many sessions as necessary to ensure you _are_ ready.”

That little bit quieted the young man.

The woman slid a finger along his slick thigh, collecting the dampness of sweat along it. He squirmed as it approached his pelvis, and then sighed in disappointment as it passed. His member was still hobbled and wet.

 _Not yet_ , she thought.

Silence enveloped them for a time. It was good, this was needed. Never ending stimulation lost its bite, the highs of ecstasy needed their vales to accentuate their beauty. Still, there came a point when the silence was no longer fresh. The elder woman spoke to fill the void.

“Tell me about your lady,” Drasna said.

“She’s perfect,” was his unhesitant answer.

“In what way?”

“In every way.” He closed his eyes and reached into the air, imagining her hovering above him. “There’s nothing I don’t love about her.”

A small smirk came to Drasna. The absolutes of affection held by youth always amused her. Nostalgia, perhaps? Her years of naivety were a happier time, she remembered fondly.

“Do you put her on a pedestal?” she asked.

“She leapt onto the pedestal,” Calem insisted.

“Oh?” The youth had a good grasp on metaphor.

“Okay, you know, she’s not got the perfect body, and she’s not the perfect trophy wife, that’s not what I meant.” He started. “I don’t mean she’s ugly either! She’s the most beautiful girl in the world!” Drasna nodded and Calem settled down. “It’s that, what I really meant is that she’s a perfect human being. There’s not an ounce of evil in her. She loves everyone and everything, and treats them all with kindness. She’s sweet and caring, and has a smile no matter how crummy the day is. I think, honestly, she forgives people too easily, even when they’ve done terrible things. But she’s not stupid and won’t let them take advantage of her forgiveness either. Her words are really considerate, and I think being nice comes naturally to her.”

Calem frowned.

“I guess I’m going on and on, huh?”

“No, please continue.”

“But I can’t say enough about her. You’d need to be a poet to really describe what kind of person she is.”

“I’m sure you have words beautiful enough for her,” Drasna reassured him.

“But I can tell I sound stupid just mouthing off what every guy would say about his crush.”

“It is not stupid at all. If it is bothering you, why not share an experience? Show, don’t tell, as authors like to say.”

“Ah.” Calem perked up at the suggestion. “Well then, I’m not sure where to start! There’s a hundred stories I could share.”

“Pick one, any one,” Drasna urged.

Calem thought about it.

“Oh yeah. I think this one’s the best. So, it’s pretty obvious to anyone who spends any time with her, that she loves shopping and fashion and makeup. She doesn’t go overboard, but it’s the topic that makes her most excited. She’ll ask me if she’s pretty enough this day or that, and I always tell her she is. So she kind of gives off the vibe that she puts a lot of importance in appearances, and some people think she looks down on others who don’t take care of their appearances or are just stuck being less than pretty because of how they were born. But that’s not true.

Her mother was a champion Pokemon rider. She knows all about the sport, and she wanted to take me to a track meet. We got to meet the Pokemon they were going to ride. There were a lot of pretty ones, and cool looking ones, Pokemon you’d pick out to admire. But the one that caught her eye was just the ugliest Rhyhorn you’d ever seen. She had a discolored hide, her lips were too wide, her horn was kind of crooked, her body didn’t fill out. She was near-sighted too, and kept running into things. The other kids were making fun of her, throwing trash at her and taunting her. They’d trick her into charging into them and then dodging so she’d run into a fence or a mud puddle.

Serena didn’t like that at all. She put herself up as a living wall and took the mud balls they were slinging at this Rhyhorn. It ruined her new dress, but she didn’t mind. Then she gave the Rhyhorn a bow and told her how beautiful she was and that she could win the race if she worked hard. It really cheered the Pokemon up.”

Calem laughed.

“She bet all our allowance on that Rhyhorn.”

“Let me guess, she won it all,” Drasna ventured.

Calem shook his head with a sigh.

“Fifth place. We only got back a third of our bet. Then, Serena went and gave that money to the Rhyhorn’s owner, since they were looking for donations for eye surgery. Because of that, we nearly starved to death over the next two weeks. Serena, bless her, she laughed at it. She said it was worth it, even cracked a perfect joke- ‘It’ll help me stay skinny!’ I couldn’t fault her.”

Calem went silent for a moment.

“The way she treated that Pokemon, she’s like that for everyone. I don’t want to be an ugly Rhyhorn who automatically gets her sympathy. I want to be a dashing Rhydon she admires and adores. If she’s so nice for any poor creature she stumbles across, can you imagine how incredibly precious her love for her special someone would be? I want that.” Calem firmed up. “And I want to _earn_ it.”

Drasna nodded once more, pleased with the accuracy of her initial assessment. This was a gallant squire in shining armor, merely awaiting the march of years to transform into a dashing knight.

“Is it selfish of me, to want that?” Calem asked Drasna.

She stroked his cheek.

“Yes. Very selfish. But child, you must learn that nothing is truly unselfish. Even our sacrifices done for the sake of others can be construed as selfish, a mere fishing for the self-satisfaction it nets us. The measure of good or evil is not in the motivation, but in the outcome. If you are worried of such things, then ensure that your love and desire for love also gives her joy.”

“Mmm. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Calem acknowledged.

“And the same of sex: your carnal desires have no sin in and of themselves, but it is the application that can make it a wonderful, or terrible, affair. This, then, is a good time for me to ask you. Are you learning from this encounter? Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes madam.” Calem turned on his side to fully face Drasna. “I think I might feel guiltier if this was like cheating, if I was abandoning Serena to sleep with you. But it doesn’t feel that way. You’re being really supportive. I don’t really get it.”

“What is so difficult to understand?”

“Well, when I think of lovers and sex, I just think someone who wants to have sex would get jealous for the one they want to have sex with. They wouldn’t like to share. But you’re different. You’re teaching me how to be a better lover for another woman. Do you do this a lot?”

“Yes. Of course. I will say, being a free and uninhibited woman, I don’t lack for partners. And my high position in the league protects me from charges of baseness, of being regarded as a mere “slut”. This is my hobby, and teaching and watching my students grow and consummate is as much a part of my enjoyment as the act itself. I don’t begrudge my pupils applying their lessons with other women. It actually very much compliments me if their relationship is successful. And besides, I have my own collection of loyal servants, if that mood takes me,” Drasna casually explained.

“Servants? Plural?” Calem asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Jealous?”

“No.” Calem shook his head. “It’s just, I have Serena. Don’t you have anyone special?”

Drasna smiled, a bitter one, to hide a grimace. Haunted memories floated to the fore. She waved them away.

“Once,” she said.

“And what happened?” Calem probed.

“My happily ever after was robbed from me. Now I content myself as best I can. Please, don’t ask. I don’t want to taint your innocent love. I hope you and your lady have a wonderful, lifelong affair.”

“Oh. My apologies.”

“No need to apologize. It is another small lesson learned. So!” Drasna sat up and clapped her hands. “That said! You’ve experienced the thrills of coitus firsthand, now it is time you learned how to perform the act yourself!”


	7. Fourth Lesson: Coitus, Application

Drasna rose to her feet and began stripping off the manifold cloth items that covered her, starting with the leotard piece. That came off swiftly, casually, without any hint of sensuality or tease. Naked from neck to torso, Calem was finally given a full view of her forbidden fruits. It was not anything surprising, he had already viewed the individual bits piece by piece over the course of their session. The ravening hunger born from seeing her nude self was gone. That said, as she twirled and pranced, skin at the core with dark cloth wrapping her legs and arms and hands, he still could appreciate her raw beauty.

She came to a standstill, one gloved hand resting on her hip, the other tracing lines across her thigh and womanhood.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me I am pretty.”

“You are pretty,” Calem said.

“Sexy.”

“Very sexy.”

“Seductive.”

“Utterly seductive. I think you’ve proven that already.”

Drasna giggled.

“And you are a handsome stud yourself.”

She leaned over and took Calem’s hair in her fingers.

“A good haircut might suit you better.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re probably right. Serena told me the same thing. I just haven’t had the time to find a good barber. It looks stupid if I let just anyone do it, my mother said it was better to let it grow out if I couldn’t get a pro to cut it.”

“Understandable.”

Calem looked a bit perturbed.

“I know what you’re thinking. That was a criticism. It’s not always easy to take, no matter how kindly offered. A relationship requires such sacrifices, however. Here, you’ve told me how pretty I am because I told you to do so. Now think for yourself, and tell me honestly what you think of my appearance.”

Calem gushed out a long breath.

“Um. Okay. Well. Haa. So, I don’t think you are “ _pretty_ ”. Pretty, to me, is Serena. “ _Cute_ ” is Shauna. You, madam, are “ _sexy_ ”. Hot. A bombshell. Good looking. My cousin is a cook and very vulgar, and as he would say, you are a “ _fine piece of meat_ ”.”

“Oh I see!” Drasna understood. “So you categorize attractiveness.”

“Right!” Calem said eagerly. “I never liked putting girls on a one-to-ten scale. All men have different tastes, so I think all girls can be attractive to somebody.”

“But surely you must think some types are more to your taste than others?”

“I guess so. But I try being objective.”

“Oh, you can be honest this once. Take advantage of it while you can.”

Calem shrugged.

“Then I would say I am attracted to you and you are sexy, but between you and Serena, she has a petite body I enjoy very much, and you just have too many curves.”

The young man braced himself. That statement was on the tip of an axle, a hair’s breathe between falling to ruin and rising to high comedy. Fortunately for him, it was the latter.

“Oh haha! Hahahaha! I love it! I truly love it! You are so forthright, so honest! Oh, I may be having regrets, letting you go! Breaking you would have been the greatest joy of my year!”

Drasna ripped off her mesh elbow-length gloves and thigh high stockings, flinging them at him one after another, until she was completely and totally nude.

“Get up,” she ordered.

Calem scrambled to his feet, unsteadily on account of the long stay on his back. Drasna came up to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and steadied him. There was something different about standing aside her nude than when laying down, he noticed. It was more earnest, less sensual. For the first time since the clothes came off, he stopped thinking about the acts they were committing and started thinking about her, Drasna.

_She’s not my hand. This isn’t masturbation. She’s a human being with her own thoughts and feelings. And she’s willing to share a night like this with a guy like me. It feels good, and not in a mindless, sexual way. Ego-gratifying, that’s what it is. She cares for me, she wants me. I could say the same for her. That’s what makes this better than a wank or porn-peep. Two people sharing their love- that’s what makes this good._

He remembered his purpose for being here, and the core of the lessons Drasna was trying to impart to him. This was part of that lesson, he realized. He promised to take it to heart-

_When we’re done here, I’m going to make Serena feel like the goddess she is. No more excuses._

Calem steadied his nerves.

Drasna smirked, as if she could read his thoughts and approved of the conclusion.

She directed him around her position.

“Over here. Here.” She had him stand opposite her, with her own back to the bed and his to the door. “When you begin, there will be foreplay, innocent courting and the likes, kissing, everything I have taught you thus far. I leave the particulars up to you. When you are ready to truly begin, this is how you will do it.”

He stood stiff and attentive.

“Relax,” she ordered. “Look at ease. No, do not slouch. Too stiff. Too limp. Too stiff. Too limp again. Quit aping, and wipe that smile off your face.” Her tone had a sudden, cold, commanding snap to it. When he could not get the posture she desired, she went to him and manhandled his body until she was satisfied.

“Stand like that for one minute.”

He tried not to move, but found it impossible not to at least shift his weight. For that she smacked the bare arch of his back sharply.

“Stop slouching, brute! Upright!”

It took four minutes to successfully hold the required posture for one, but once that was accomplished, Drasna was still not satisfied.

“Now walk to the closet and back, and resume that posture.”

“Is this necessary?”

“Shut it. You are not to question.”

He did as told.

“You are practicing for the deflowering of your loved one. This is not a pleasurable experience for her under the best of circumstances. Your duty is to make it bearable, to entice her into future endeavors. Your pleasure means nothing at this juncture. Remember that. _Nothing_. If you so much as bemoan a lack of climax, I’ll throw you out.”

She’s serious, Calem thought. His intellect was hesitant, but his instincts responded to her dictatorial commands with ease. Three, four, five times he was told to repeat his entrance, and each time he obeyed, because he felt he had no other choice.

“Hopeless,” Drasna said at last, shaking her head. “Fine. It’s not critical. When you arrive at the moment, just be sure to not look the part of a thug at a brothel. Stand there and watch.” Drasna mimed the removal of clothing she had long-since discarded. “Allow her to take off her own clothes. Is she shy about showing her naked self? Bear with her. Obey her commands. Suggest some measure of modesty if she seems uncomfortable. Turn off the lights, or allow her to cover herself in sheets. Whatever it takes to make her feel at ease.”

Drasna stood rigid and stiff, eyes averted, arms covering her breasts- obviously a feint, a mimicry of the virgin girl who’s role she was playing.

“Now approach,” she said. “Chest up! Up!” She wasn’t going to let that go, was she? Calem did as he was told. “Easy strides. Exude confidence. You do know what that looks like, don’t you? The same air you strode with when you challenged me in the Pokemon arena. Show me that air.”

Merely asking for a particular attitude was not doing it. Calem was all too conscious of the artificiality of the setup. He gritted his teeth and gave his best impression of… himself, or so he tried.

“And now you are trying too hard. You look rigid as an armor suit. Wikstrom would be proud. Not I. Imbecile! You must do better! Back! Do it again!”

Calem’s frustration flashed over for a split second. His chest heaved and his face hardened. His tempered teetered on the brink of explosion, and it was only by his deep mindfulness that it was held in check. He loomed over the woman, fighting impulse after impulse to lash out at her. Yet, for all the danger, it worked.

“Yes! That’s it! That’s the look!”

Drasna was, at last, impressed by his demeanor.

“Carry yourself like that, that is the impression of a man in charge!”

“But I am angry,” Calem said. “Was angry,” he corrected himself. The anger had bled away as soon as the woman’s scorn turned to compliments.

Drasna put a hand to his chin and lifted it up. She caught him eye to eye. He didn’t realize that he had been bowing his head and averting his eyes. How quickly the rage had turned to shame!

“You’ve done far better than most men. No human endures biting words without feeling rage. It is a man’s duty to never turn that rage upon his lady. Self-control is of the upmost importance. When anger is put under control, focused, and purposed, now that is a wonderful thing to behold. Some of the best fucks I’ve ever had came at the hands of men filled with white-hot wrath. Some of the best I’ve given, as well.”

“How am I to be gentle and caring if I feel like I’m about to explode?” Calem asked.

“Oh dear. I’ve confused you, haven’t I?” Drasna giggled sheepishly. “It will be easy to be gentle and caring at first. You and she will be so nervous, you will hardly help but be timid and gentle. It is when things do not go as expected, when hiccups occur, when your patience is tried, that is when frustration will set in. Then you must control it, and turn it to assertiveness, harness it for her sake. Later, much later, when you are both experienced and craving, you will learn to apply it in force. Ah, but we are here to address your first encounter. I apologize for getting ahead of myself. Here.”

She resumed her role as a shy virgin woman.

“How would you take me? Say it first, without action.”

Calem took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. His pause was unnaturally long, it was apparent he was giving this question careful consideration. When he came to, his eyes locked onto hers. His voice was clear and sure.

“Drasna, you are beautiful. So incredibly beautiful. I would like to lay you on that bed and get to know you more. I want to hold you, and taste you, and be with you alone tonight. Allow me.” He held his hand out, palm upturned, inviting her.

Drasna quivered. This youth, this _child_ , had her figured out! In all her decades engaging in this sordid hobby, she had never encountered such a romantic, heartfelt gesture. Not since Drake had her heart fluttered so…

Her smile came, a softer, more candid smile than any previous.

 _I’ve only to teach him details, and give him practice and confidence. Polish, really. He needs no refining,_ Drasna thought.

Calem did not understand or even perceive what he had stirred in the older woman. He stood there belayed, trying to decipher the myriad of subtle expressions overtaking the seductress.

“Well, was that bad?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “Do with me what you will.”

“Sorry?”

“Lead on. I will give you guidance, should it be required.”

Calem swallowed, nodded in understanding, and stepped forward.

He reached out, paused to think, and then directed his hand to her hip. Drasna nodded with approval. The young man gently guided her to the edge of the mattress. He braced his knees against the side of the bed, allowing him the leverage to lower Drasna’s body gracefully onto the sheets. He then held her butt cheeks and helped her scooch fully onto the mattress. Then it was his turn to clamber onto the mattress, taking a kneeling perch between her legs.

From up high, she appeared like a fawning infant to him, delicate and helpless. From below, she saw him as a triumphant conqueror surveying his spoils. There was a moment of hesitance; the woman wondered if the young man was savoring the dominance, or unsure as to how to proceed. She waited a few seconds longer, and spied his back stiffening. It was the latter.

“Fondle me,” she said helpfully. “There is no cutoff for foreplay.”

Calem obliged. He kept his lofty position and used his hands to rummage about the curves of her shoulders, chest, and breasts. He massaged her upper torso in symmetrical, rhythmic motions. Skin gripped skin, tugging it along in unpleasant fashion.

“One moment.”

He thought he had spotted a familiar product lying among the questionable containers on the bedside. He emptied a small drop of lotion onto his palms- which accidentally turned into a sizable puddle. A quick rub and the moisturizer coated his hands, and then some. He contemplated the dilemma of the excess, and quickly concluded that proceeding as normal would naturally resolve it. Going back to work on Drasna’s breasts, the cool gel waxed across her contours, allowing his fingers to glide across her skin with ease. They caressed, and kneaded, and pinched, and pressed, dancing across the landscape of flesh in varying intervals and degrees of firmness. Drasna was smothered in the delectable feeling, a sensation not quite sexual in its physiological appeal. She tilted her head back and clamped her eyes shut. How much longer would the boy play like this? The longer, the better, she thought.

“Ah!”

The boy being a boy, assumed otherwise. A soft sucking had greeted her right nipple.

“Sorry,” Calem said in between suckles. “I assumed we didn’t have to go through the whole foreplay ordeal again.”

“Don’t be hasty,” Drasna replied. Calem shrugged and went back to work. He spent a measured amount of time on each nipple. Not as long as Drasna would have liked, but there was a kind of pleasure, a contentedness, to the even interval between cycles. First her right bud would receive a hard suck, then her left, then the right would be gently gnawed, then the same for the left, and then the right would be swirled by his tongue, and then the left, and so on. His head bobbed back and forth between tits. With each pass, his curtain of dark hair ghosted across the vale between her breasts. All the while his silky hands continued to play across her sides. His touch was firmer than their first foray, but never violent or painful.

“You are gentle, by nature,” she noted.

“Thank you.”

“Here.” She tilted her head all the way back, exposing the moony white of her throat. Calem’s hands moved up to work her breasts as his lips found their way to her neck. In so doing, his whole torso shifted upwards. Her thighs shifted and tensed, squirming to catch the penis that was now within reach. He felt one calf grind into his crotch.

“Hmm?”

“If she is enjoying it like I am now, instinct will take over,” Drasna said. “Her nethers will start to seek out your touch.”

Calem reached a hand down.

“Wait! Not yet. Make her wait just a little bit.”

Calem withdrew his hand and went back to work. Their lips pressed. The now-familiar weft and weave of their orifices was as greedily accepted as their first meeting. He noticed another nudge against his balls, and then again. The petitions came in long pulses, each more urgent than the last.

“Mm.” “Mmm.” “Mmmm.” “MMMMMMMM!” Her voice became a whimper and her kiss became a rabid gnash. A tap on his buttocks signaled to Calem that the waiting was over. His fingers went down between their two bodies and began rubbing.

He repeated all the motions he had learned previously. His technique became less dainty, more forceful in response to her every utterance. When he began rubbing them rapidly, even daring to cup his fingertips inside her opening, her pelvis went into spasms. Her lips shook him loose.

“Now,” she commanded.

“Okay.”

He tried entering her, but found it difficult.

“You may lean up,” she offered.

He did, with reluctance. It was cold without the touch of her warm, sumptuous chest pressed against his. Nevertheless, he had a task to do. His focus came to his shaft. It was not entirely hard, but a quick fap would fix that. Drasna noticed.

“Don’t stop treating the vagina while you attend to your erection,” she advised.

“Yes madam.” While he wanked himself stiff with one hand, he thumbed circles around her clit. Her words proved out; he noticed her flesh swell and color mauve with his touch. A female erection, so to speak. Now hard, he set his tip against her southern lip.

“Slowly. Slowly. Pretend my hymen is intact. This will be the most difficult part for her.”

Calem visualized the scene. Serena, in all her naked beauty, lay beneath him. Her vagina was swollen, lush, soft, but tight.

 _Easy does it_ , he thought.

He swirled the tip around her, using it as he had his fingers, making five laps around. Then, at last, he pricked it inwards. Just the head went in, no more. He waited. A soft murmur came from the lady. He pushed in again.

The fantasy fell apart there. His shaft went in four inches, suddenly and by accident.

“Oh.”

“Mmm. Hmm.” Drasna stared down at the fully embedded penis within her. Disappointment and consternation filled their faces. Second by second, the ill mood dissipated, until the two participants were filled with smiles and giggles.

“I suppose I am no good at playing the virgin,” Drasna quipped with a chuckle.

“Ahahaha. Does it feel good?”

“Oh yes.”

“But what about Serena? I guess, it won’t be this easy.”

“Unlikely.”

“Should I pull out and try again?”

“No, no.” Drasna went down and pinched the flesh surrounding his member. “When you enter her, remember this: slow, firm thrusts, with long pauses in between every movement. Practice that.”

Calem did so. He pulled back at a snail’s pace, until the rim of his head could be seen sticking out. He waiting for her grunt, and then slid back in.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Every thrust was presaged by her cute grunt. Her verbal tic started slow, every ten seconds. With each pass, it sped up. Five second intervals. Then three. Then one. Beyond that, she no longer gave signals, Calem merely began thrusting automatically.

“Here.” She directed his hips. “Move like this.” Her hands manually guided him along a more fluid humping motion. At one point, she stopped him. “Do you feel that?”

“No,” he answered. “Feel what?”

“Where you are in me.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“That is my silver spot, the place that gushes when touched. Try aiming for that.”

“I’ll try.”

His hips went back to work. He tried practicing the motion she showed him. His thrust was not jackhammer back-and-forth, but circular and martial. It was difficult to keep up, even more so while attempting to aim for that silver spot. She helped by gripping the base of his shaft, angling it towards where she desired. He started grunting in exertion.

“See here,” she said.

“Oof. Oof. Oof! Uh?” Calem slowed down to listen but did not stop entirely.

“Many woman cannot orgasm by penetration alone. Some require their clit stimulated. I can do either, but prefer both. I do not know your maiden’s requirements. Watch this.”

She showed him how to rub her clit while keeping his balance and maintaining his pace. It was a strenuous balancing act.

“Can’t you rub yourself while I thrust?”

“I could, but if your lady believes you alone are responsible for her orgasm, this is something you will need to perfect.”

“Oh. Wonderful.”

“Don’t gripe. Keep thrusting, Faster now.”

He did so. His pace stressed his muscles. His fingers worked her whole cunt as furiously as he could. His left arm ached from bearing his weight, although the ache was in part relieved by the vibrant sensations coming from his dick.

 _This is hard_ , he thought.

Physically hard. He never imagined sex demanded so much from the body. He felt like his muscles would give out before his orgasm could come. He wanted so hard to bring the pressure in his lower head to its climax, but it was not quite there. He looked to the woman, to see if she was close.

Drasna’s grunts turned to cries. Her stomach jerked in regular pulses. Her hips reached up to greet his thrusts. Her hand clamped down on his, pressing it hard into her mound. The thrust of his dick and the rub of his fingers sang to her twin symphonies, differing in tune in such a way as to not be dissonant, but rivalling each other for the lady’s attention. The aria played upon her clitoris was high and scintillating, the bolero drumming upon her G-spot was low and heart-pounding. She turned her attention from one to the other and back, soaking the joy of each to the brink before switching. With each trade, her appreciation heightened ever more. Individually, their songs were of mortal joy. Together, their tune was divine. Drasna allowed the sexual bliss to nearly crescendo.

“Yes! YES! Ah, oh yes. Good! Now, stop, lean off.”

She pushed him out of her. Calem was at once frustrated for the lack of climax, but also relieved to be able to rest. The break did not last long.

She rolled over onto her belly.

“You will take me doggy-style, like the beasts do.”

Calem looked a little bewildered. Obviously he had never seriously contemplated how Pokemon conducted their copulation rituals.

“Hurry up! Do not waste that erection!”

“Yes madam.”

He bent down over her buttocks and awkwardly inserted himself. It took some effort to locate her hole, more effort to find a good position, and the greatest effort still to begin pumping her. The joy of his member barely canceled the strain of his muscles, it was like doing pushups in a military boot camp.

Drasna clawed her fingers into the fabric of the bedspread. She was in a position allowing her to exert nothing and take everything, and take she did. The boy was angled just so, and she had the ability to grind her pubic mound into the sheets. When he would not go fast enough for her liking, she slapped her rear into him, hard. The beat of his cock became a drum- _THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!_ And every impact sent wanton quakes through her nervous system.

“AH!”

Calem was about to come, she sensed. The woman twisted beneath him.

“New position,” she announced.

In this way she guided him for the next twenty minutes, changing forms at regular intervals. Her words would bark or sooth, depending on his performance. He obeyed as best he could, barely keeping up. When necessary, she manually guided his body in the motions she desired. Often she would lead him on until she reached orgasm, but always managed to head his peak off.

Calem lost count of the number of different positions she coaxed him into. He could hardly believe that the male and female bodies could be flexed in so many myriad ways while remaining joined at the genitals: he beneath her, she riding him while facing his legs; laying on their sides, his chest pressed against her back, her outer leg lifted up to give access; her on her back, legs twisted to the side and pressed tight together, his dick in between, rubbing off as much against her thighs as her vaginal walls; she with her buttocks raised high to the ceiling, he crouched against her; she splayed on the bed while he stood on the floor, with one of her legs draped over his shoulder, to be used by him as a handle to jack himself into her; she on top of him, both partners sitting up, dick embedded; her legs cocked over both his shoulders, with his hands grabbing her thighs; and so on and so on and so on…

“Drasna- heh heh heh- I- whoo! I’m getting a little exhausted.”

“More!” she ordered him.

“Let me- please. Just. I’m about to collapse.”

“Fuck,” she spat out under her breath. Clearly she was not nearly as spent. “Fine, so be it. We’ll finish where we started, missionary.”

She threw herself into the bed, setting her shoulders and head onto the pillows. She took one pillow and placed it under her butt cheeks, propping her groin up. Her thick thighs spread wide apart. Her vagina invited him in.

Calem, for all his exhaustion, brimmed with excitement. He could finally satiate the addiction that had built up within him for the last half-hour.

“As before, show me,” she said.

He approached, sliding gracefully onto the bed sheets. He kept his head and shoulders up, and his gaze attentive.

“Good!”

His hands glided once more over her chest, down her arms, and about her nethers. His fingers traced the outline of her hole.

“Yes! Go on. Put it in.”

He positioned himself, aligning his dick with her cunt. He squeezed his shaft; after so much use, mere anticipation was not enough to keep it hard. A good pumping fixed that. With that accomplished, he aligned their genitals, and slowly led in. This time, the penetration was paced as slow as he could possibly manage. Movement was measured in millimeters, timing by whole seconds. Her cheeks clenched up, tighter and tighter as he went deeper and deeper. At last, he was buried as far as he could go. 

“Like I showed you,” she said. Her hands went to his hips, but he guided them upwards, to his shoulders, as if he wanted her to hold him there. He leaned over her, onto his elbows. She moved her hands down again, then across his sides, then around his back. She gripped him hard in embrace, pulling all his weight down on top of her. Their faces came close and their lips greeted each other with passion. Tongue met tongue, the prehensile whips of flesh vying with each other to deliver the fiercest massage.

“Mmmph!” Calem mumbled. Drasna’s tongue won, and began squirming wildly around his orifice. Calem enjoyed it, but decided he wanted to be more assertive in their lovemaking. He responded in the place where he held leverage- where their bodies joined down below.

His hips began pumping. His dick thrummed into her. At first a deep, deliberate base, and then rising, in power, in precision, and in depth. They came faster, turning from raindrops to bombard blasts. He got one hand down in between them and began jerking off her clit. One of hers came down to return the favor, digging into the base of his cock and rubbing it off. Their lower bodies writhed in mutual delight.

Drasna threw her head back.

“Yes! Yes! Gods yes!” she screamed, and then her words devolved into squeals and grunts of joy. The pounding went on and on, lasting minutes, or eternities for all their love-drenched brains could tell.

At last, she convulsed underneath him in wild ecstasy.

“Just get it over with,” she ordered between moans. “Hard as you can.”

Her legs opened wide. He brought himself in to greet her. Their skin and fat slapped against each other all across their pelvic region- genitals, thighs, pelvis, stomach, all coming together as one for a fraction of second, and then departing, fissioning and fusioning many times a second.

Calem felt the wash of mindlessness coming. His hips began speeding up of their own accord.

“Yes! Fuck me- Ahhhh!” Drasna’s hand jerked out of his violently, sending her over. Her lower body retched in welcome shock. Calem used his freed right hand to balance himself on the bed. With better leverage, he began laying into her with a furor.

“Ohhh!” Her cries crescendoed. His thrusts smacked against her, leaving her flesh red.

“Ah! Oh, no, no! Slower, gentler!”

Calem could not slow himself, but he tried heeding her advice. He pulled back on his thrusts before impact, cushioning them with his strength. It was all his muscles could take. Yet, just a moment before they gave out, his arousal peaked. He lay into the woman, up to the hilt. Her legs wrapped around him and held him there. Her arms splayed out, shivering. His calves stretched taut, the tendons in the soles of his feet cried out in agony. He could feel his dick pumping its fluids into her. The height of orgasm washed through their intertwined pelvises. Calem could feel her pushing into him down there, trying desperately to soak up all the blissful feelings before it washed away. He did the same.

 _Sex_.

Less a word to describe a physical act, and more a name by which to call the most addictive of recreational drugs.

As life goes- a slow descent to nothingness- so did the ecstasy. Their orgasm faded away, leaving only echoes of itself in their conscious and their love parts.

The two collapsed. He minded his weight and flopped to her side. She obliged by rolling along with him, keeping them connected.

“And that is how it is done,” Drasna said lovingly.


	8. The Price of a Predator

Calem lay in the bed breathing hard. He had no more strength, not in his body, not in his brain, and certainly not in his member. This was it for him. He could do no more than stare at the ceiling, aglow in the aftershock of sex. Agony and pleasure, wrapped in one glorious, existence-consuming aura permeated him.

The lady of the dragons lay beside him on her side, gazing along his length. Her fingers daintily traced their way across his bare body.

The recovery lasted as long as was needed. Once the sexual high went away, his thoughts began swirling. The first was of obligation.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“You are… amazing. A real monster.”

“And thank you.”

Calem contemplated further.

“You liked it, right? Did I do well?”

“For a novice, you were excellent. The best I’ve had in months, perhaps the whole year.”

“Hahaha. I take it you do this often.”

“Weekly.”

Calem nodded along.

“That makes me feel good. That felt really good. _Really_ good.”

“Did you learn from it?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. A lot.”

“Are you now confident in your abilities?”

“Well, sort of. I, um. I don’t think I’m not going to be nervous when we do it for the first time. It’s just impossible. I love her, so so much, and I’m going to worry about making it the best possible experience for her. That can’t be helped. But, I think, I’m not going to be scared. I’m not going to be nervous for myself. You’ve helped with that.”

“Good, I’m so glad to hear it.”

“You’re a great teacher.”

“I admit, I am.”

Calem lay back in the sheets and began imagining the future. Strangely, it was not the act itself that propelled his fancies, but everything leading up to it- his embarrassed approach, his heartfelt confession, their mutual declaration of love, their first true kiss, the titillating dates that would surely follow. Maybe she would want to progress quickly, that very night? Or perhaps slow, allowing for their love to deepen and firm up, before they sealed it with passion. Either way was fine with him. What he truly wanted was to simply be wrapped up in her love, basking in her care, and kindness, and perfection. The pride he would feel in exerting himself, doing everything he could to deserve her feelings and return her love tenfold. It would all be so… so…

“Lovely,” he said aloud.

Drasna smiled and slowly rose from the bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m in heaven,” he replied.

“That’s nice, but literally, how is your body feeling right now?”

He did not notice her approach the nightstand.

“Beat. Worn out. Ha! Can I sleep here? I mean, may I sleep here?”

“Of course. Later.”

“Meh. Right now, I’m thinking,” Calem said with a sleepy sigh.

“That will not be tolerated.”

“Aw, please?”

“We are not finished,” she said in dry remark.

“Whah?! AHHHH!”

Calem winced. Something had bit him in the arm. He pulled away suddenly, and noticed Drasna looming over his side. She had a syringe in her hand, the plunger pressed down, the contents spent.

“What- madam, what are you doing?”

“Oh?”

The dragon lady bowed over him. Her expression was one of scorn.

“Were you under the impression this lesson was given free of charge?”

“Huh?! Um, errr… I don’t have a lot of money…”

Drasna smirked, an evil, rapturous, maleficent smirk, one that sent a chill into his body, right down to his nether regions.

His dick, inexplicably, went stiff.

“Payment is not made in funds, my dear, dear child.”

“What are you doing?” Calem whispered.

“You’ve had your fun. It’s my turn now.”

Calem tried to scream, but nothing came out.

…

The night passed into a blur.

He remembered little. Glimpses of reality, really, like momentary arousals amidst a lurid nightmare.

He dreamed of things, things no young man imagined in his wildest, or darkest, sexual fantasies.

At times, he saw himself in chains, splayed out across the bed spread-eagle. His dick was masturbated with a heel, or stomped, or consumed, by mouth or cunt or ass. There was pain, yes, but there was also orgasm, though it no longer felt as good. This was acclimation- an addiction so far gone that release was no elevation, merely a return to normalcy from an abyssal low.

Other times, he was lain out on his stomach across a chair. Something drove into his shitting hole, and he dared not imagine what. Deep inside his bowels, something twinged, firmed up, and cried. Release came like a volcanic eruption. It was like an orgasm, but far more intense. The first time a benevolent hand massaged his cock stiff, and what little cum emerged went ballistic, shooting underneath the chair and a good three feet beyond. The second climax, there was no such attention, and his dick hung limp even as his pelvis convulsed. The drip of cum was a whimper of its former trajectory.

He was hypnotized by draconic eyes, pumped full of drinks that turned his muscles to fire, and by combination forced into action against his will. He threw the lady’s body against the wall, pinned her against it, holding her whole weight up on his hips. His cock pounded into her from below. She danced on top of him, throwing her head back in howls of ecstasy. Her hands clawed against his back, leaving ten long red streaks in his flesh.

He was flung on his back, his legs were held up high, and he was straddled. His dick was painfully bent between his legs in order to meet her cunt. The position was unnatural and shameful; by physiological rights it should be the man on top, the female on bottom, in such a pose- but it was the woman who stood dominant, lifting her fuck toy up underneath her and ramming her hole down onto his swollen cock.

He barely remembered a more natural position, he on his back, she straddling him, cowgirl-style, although the hazy memory may be explained by the pressure on his throat, her hands wrapped around it tight. Breathing became impossible, until the moment tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and only then air returned.

His bare back and buttocks sang with the pleasure of whips.

Liquid was foisted into his mouth, sometimes by cup, sometimes by shared lips. It burned his stomach and soothed his mind.

There were times a slithering, reptilian presence became involved, groping and massaging parts human hands could not reach.

He was flung around, held down, beat, coddled, cuddled, tortured, animated, put to sleep.

He was a ragdoll, a fuck toy, an object.

Flesh met flesh. Hands wrapped around wrists, tongues met lips, limbs gripped torsos. Cock and vagina enmeshed.

Pleasure dissolved into permeation and permanence. Orgasm after orgasm came, went, returned, died. His body was consumed in heat- not burning fire, but smothering ash, an incandescent satiation without end. He could no longer remember a time when the world was anything but SEX.

And at long last, all feeling came to nothing, and reality went dark.

“Goodnight, young buck.”


	9. The Conquering Hero

Calem strode out of the Pokemon League castle, head held high. An effervescent mood had overcome him. There was an airy, almost joyous, skip to his step. The cheery attitude seemed infectious, as every attendant and official bid him farewell in kind. He waved goodbye to all of them. The world felt perfect.

“Good luck! Be gentle with her, treat her well, love her! I dearly hope it works out for you two! Oh, yes, and good luck in your careers as well! I want to see you at the Winter Tournament, I expect a high seeding for you and the miss! Take care! Goodbye! …Ah! And also, if you ever feel the need for a refresher, be sure to give me a call!” Drasna’s parting words put a breeze beneath his sails.

There was a nagging doubt in the back of his mind, though, something small and strange telling him to pass on her final offer. Last night was a blur, and parts of the later hours escaped his memory. A demur hint nested there, like a disturbed omen, warning him to be wary of the lady who commanded dragons.

“Eh.” He shrugged the ill feeling off. Must just be his body complaining to him. The session had really taken a toll on him, his muscles ached all over. Most especially his privates- they weighed on him like raw lead. It was painful, actually. He felt as if he had entered the lair of a monstrous Noivern and come out the other side, alive but battle-scarred. There would be no hanky-panky in his future, not for a while at least.

“Ah well.”

Serena was to celebrate her victory with a parade next week. In the meantime, she had all sorts of official and personal business to attend to. The same was true for himself. Whatever was to happen, would come later, after he had time to recover.

 “The future will come,” he said to himself. “And it will be… beautiful.”

Curls of blond caught his eye- a slender figure in cute dress and sporting a beaming face was waving to him. Calem’s lips smiled with confidence… and anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back in September 2014, having never tried my hand at erotica and wanting practice for future endeavors, I took suggestions for writing a smutfic. The prompt I ended up with was Calem/Drasna of Pokemon X/Y. After much delay and procrastination, I finally got around to finishing it and now present it for public perusal. I hope you all enjoyed.


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